Thursday, October 25, 2007

The People: The Recyclers

Drum roll....And now the long-anticipated part two (part one) of the occasional series of "The People" entries...

There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of them in Phnom Penh alone. They come in all shapes and sizes. They range in age from two or three to sixty. Their clothes are ragged, but their call is confident. They operate at all times of day, from early in the morning until late in the evening. They are the recyclers.

They are not, however, recyclers in the traditional sense. They do not work for the government. They do not wear a uniform. They do not care if your recyclables are sorted between paper and plastic or what number, if any, appears on the bottom of your discarded items. So what are they?

I suppose you could describe them as independent entrepreneurs, though their activities are far from lucrative. Their mission? To collect anything left as trash on sidewalks and street corners that they or someone else might find remotely useful. Their primary concern is the collection of cardboard and bottles and cans, plastic, glass, tin and aluminum. But they will take anything discarded that can be recycled for parts or repaired for use. Broken electronics are particularly sought after.

Their day starts as early as the sun allows. Wearing worn flip flops and tattered clothes, they take to the streets armed with either a synthetic sack, the former home of twenty kilos of cement or rice, or a rickety, two-wheeled, wooden pushcart. As they saunter along, they issue a nasal utterance, “Eah Jaht…Eah Jaht…Eah Jaht,” a phrase which comes from the Vietnamese for garbage. Often the utterance is accompanied by the ring of a bell or the squeak a horn, not unlike the sound you would expect to hear from a clown’s nose or a dog’s toy, as they pass.

They are often small and shoeless boys, between six and ten years old, with dark skin, tussled hair, faded and torn shorts and t-shirt, and a long face. If you smile at them, however, their eyes will light up and a beautiful smile will emerge from a formerly somber visage. They tend to work the dirtiest, but also the most lucrative areas; those around the markets. They fill their cement sacks with bottles, cans, and cardboard and trudge to an extremely informal recycling center – there seems to be one on every other street or so – exchanging their wares for a dollar or two. It is to them that I offer a few bananas or my own neglected leftovers when I have the chance.

Just as often as they are young boys, they are fairly young mothers, perhaps in their mid-twenties. Their children may or may not have fathers, but they inevitably accompany their mothers on the daily route. They sit or stand in the rickety wooden carts, holding on to the side, their large and innocent eyes taking in the full extent of their surroundings. Throughout the day, soda bottles, empty but sticky cans of sweetened condensed milk, and cardboard boxes are piled high next to them. Their mothers tend to work the more suburban areas, canvassing various areas of the city and, once their carts are filled or the day is near its end, they deposit their findings at one of the aforementioned recycling centers.

Though they are very poor, they are indeed a staple of Phnom Penh. It is hard to imagine Phnom Penh without them, to wake up one morning and have their nasal cry or their comical squeak absent from the city streets.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Another Sunday with His Excellency

Sunday, October 7, 8:00am. I had woken up maybe ten minutes earlier (you tend to get up early here since the work day during the week starts at 7:30 or 8:00). My cell phone rings. It's His Excellency (Note: if you have not read about His Excellency, you may find background materials here). He again wanted my company for breakfast. With not much else to do for the day, I readily accept, meeting him downstairs after a quick shower and getting dressed.

Unfortunately, the Lexus was not around, so we stepped down a notch or two and took the Toyota Corolla, in which there is no DVD player or rear-view camera. After a short drive we arrived at a packed restaurant. Cars and trucks with government plates lined the sidewalk and a policeman assisted with parking. Entering the lavish two-story restaurant, I realized I was the only westerner around and, as a result, I attracted a few stares. There wasn't an open table in sight, but in an adjacent room, His Excellency spotted his wife, daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren (who are three and five). They had already ordered and started eating, but we joined them nonetheless, pulling extra chairs in to a now cramped table.

The menu is only in Khmer, so I order the same as everyone else: a traditional Cambodian breakfast not unlike pho, a broth with noodles, vegetables, and an assortment of meat. The three year-old, who looks more like a budding Hispanic soccer player than Cambodian with his long, curly hair, smiles at me. As he does when Shanti or I enter or leave the house, he begins waving incessantly. The difference now, though, is that he is two feet from me and I am neither coming nor going. The whole family is amused. Anyways, the meal was quite nice, though the pho's interesting amalgamation of meat was not exactly to my liking.

With wife in tow, we got back in the Corolla and started towards the house. On the way we dropped His Excellency's wife, who is fantastic, at the market to do some shopping. We continued on our way to the house and drove right by it. I had no idea where we were going.

Several minutes later I asked His Excellency, in Khmer, where we were headed. He asked me if I had any plans for the rest of the morning. I replied in the negative and, in broken English, he informed me we were going to the Ministry of Education to partake in his weekly game of petanque, the French version of bocce, or lawn bowling. His track suit now makes more sense and it came back to me that in addition to serving the National Assembly, His Excellency is in fact President (and Chief Accountant) of the Cambodian Bowls Federation. It is hard to describe my delight at this moment.

We turned into a particularly sketchy alley, made a few turns, and arrived in a parking lot. I stepped out, not sure what to expect. In front of me was an assortment of perhaps twenty-five senior Cambodian men spread across three petanque courts (I use the term courts loosely, as they were an assortment of rocks enclosed by molding wooden boards). The men were joking with each other, smoking cigarettes, and some drank a non-water substance (cough, cough, whiskey) from a water bottle even though it was only ten in the morning. I cursed myself for leaving my camera at the house.

I watched a game of the premier players. I was enormously impressed with their play, both in their ability to get the metal balls within inches of the jack, as well as their ability to, from a distance of ten to fifteen feet, strike an opponent's ball with their own in the first shot. Though I was secretly rooting for His Excellency because of his leadership in the Cambodian Bowls Federation and for his bringing me, he was easily the worst among the group. He wasn't bad, per se, but his skill did not come close to matching the others he was playing with.

After a few games as spectator, I was itching to give petanque with my new Cambodian friends a try. I was appointed 'pointer,' the first player to shoot, attempting to get as close to the jack as possible. In this capacity I held my own. When forced to be the 'hitter,' however, the player who must hit an opponent's ball away from the jack, I failed quite miserably and, as a result, instantly gained greater respect for the skill of the players I was amongst.

All in all, a fantastic morning. I can honestly say that playing petanque with a variety of government officials was not an activity in which I anticipated participating in during my tenure in Cambodia.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Siem Reap

A brief word of warning to those short on time: this entry is going to be a doozie, so if you’re short on time, you may want to focus on the below executive summary.

Executive Summary

  • Incredibly long bus ride to Siem Reap (lots of traffic, flat tire, over eight hours in all)
  • Siem Reap Town – a ridiculous amalgamation of very fancy hotels and restaurants catering to tourists
  • Pub Street – a street in Siem Reap seemingly transplanted from elsewhere in the world. It is closed to vehicular traffic and on one night we were there a man was juggling sticks of fire in the street. Am I in Montreal?
  • Kbal Spean – very cool and unique set of 11th century stone carvings in a riverbed. The detail was remarkably clear given the potential for erosion from the water.
  • Banteay Srei – temple with unbelievably intricate carvings in rose-colored sandstone.
  • Banteay Kdei – unexpectedly cool temple complex. It was very long and somewhat narrow and quite empty in terms of crowds.
  • Angkor Thom – enormous, sprawling temple complex (three square kilometers) featuring The Bayon, The Terrace of Elephants (300 meter long series of life-size elephants), among other things. Even though it appeared to be rubble from afar, The Bayon was my favorite site in all of Angkor as it had intricate bas-reliefs and over 200 Lokesvara faces carved into the stone.
  • Ta Prohm – temple ruins in competition with huge kapok trees for space, with the trees or their roots often growing through or on top of the temple or its gates. My second favorite to The Bayon.
  • Angkor Wat – though a bit disappointing that large sections of the temple complex are now closed to the public, it is hard to leave this majestic masterpiece off the highlight reel. This 12th century creation is the main reason people come to Siem Reap and the sheer size of the main towers as well as the enormous bas-reliefs are a sight to behold.
  • Afternoon of Relaxation – a quick lunch, reading poolside, a poolside nap, a swim, a phenomenal massage, and a conversation with the masseuses in Khmer. Perfect afternoon.
  • Wat Bo – 18th century temple in Siem Reap town. Before seeing the inside of the temple itself, I sat down to chat (in Khmer) with some old monks. They gave me water, bananas, and cookies despite their own state of depravation. I took a picture of the oldest and most frail monk, promising to bring back a copy of the image in December.
  • Annoyances: 1) Tourists – mainly Japanese and Chinese, everywhere. Almost always in large groups of twenty or more and, for the most part, oblivious to anyone else visiting Siem Reap. 2) Pushy Peddlers – at every stop along the way, kids offering crappy stuff you don’t want and insisting “If you buy, you buy from me!” and “You buy something?” and so on. Though cute in appearance, these kids got old quite quick.

10/8/07 – Arrival in Siem Reap
At 8:30am I caught a bus to Siem Reap. Because of the holiday, Pchum Ben, everyone was going back to their “homeland,” the provinces that they or their family grew up. Thus, the roads and the bus station were quite busy. However, Phnom Penh is still small enough that I bumped into one of my coworkers at the station. Anyway, it was a tortuously long bus ride. It took an hour to get the few kilometers to the outskirts of Phnom Penh and before reaching the halfway mark we got a flat tire. All told, the bus ride – which was supposed to last 6-7 hours – took over eight hours. Ouch.

After checking in to my basic, but cheap guesthouse, I wandered around town. In parts of the city, it was like I had left Cambodia. Five star hotel after five star hotel, restaurant after restaurant. The Old Market catered almost entirely to tourists, selling silks, wood and marble carvings, t-shirts and the like. A bit later, my friend Kurt (who works for the UN World Food Programme) arrived with his friend Tory, who was visiting and happens to be a Tufts grad; we had hit off a few nights before at dinner. For dinner, we met an Australian guy, Scott, from the UNWFP Siem Reap office on Pub Street. Going to Pub Street was like stepping into some major international city. The street itself was all restaurants, bars, and upscale shops, with the road closed to all traffic but foot traffic. While eating a mix of Western and Khmer food, a man started juggling fire a few restaurants over. Am I in Montreal? Or Europe?

10/9/07 – Temples by Tuk-Tuk
On our first day exploring the expansive temples from the Angkor period, Kurt, Tory, and I hired a tuk-tuk (a motorbike with a carriage attached) for the day. Instead of hitting the main, nearby sites first, we set off for some of the furthest away. Our first stop was Kbal Spean, about 50km outside of Siem Reap. The trip there was a beautiful drive through typical Cambodian countryside – palm trees, thatch huts, rice fields, cattle, bicycles, and naked babies. After a somewhat bumpy conclusion to the ride, we arrived at Kbal Spean, where we had a beautiful and quiet one mile walk to the site. Dating to the 11th century and spread over a stretch of about a half mile along a river, Kbal Spean is a set of stone carvings built into the riverbed. Parts of the riverbed were fully lined with round stones to make something akin to an underwater walkway. In other parts, there were intricate carvings of Vishnu and other deities. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about the site was the intricacy of the carvings, even after almost 1,000 years of wear at the hands of the small river.

From Kbal Spean, we headed 15km back towards Siem Reap to Banteay Srei. The 10th century creation of local dignitaries, Banteay Srei is the most intricately carved of all the Angkor temples. Adding to its beauty is the use of rose-colored limestone, giving the small, but nonetheless impressive temple, a pinkish hue. The details of the carvings, portraying stories from ancient Hindu scripts, were incredible. Every inch of the innermost part of the temple was elaborately carved with fine, miniscule details. Two other notes of interest at the temple: we saw a very cool blue and red lizard about a foot long nursing eggs within the cracks of the temple and throughout our visit a group of landmine victims played traditional Khmer music.

Heading further towards Siem Reap town, we stopped at Pre Rup, a more typical 10th century Khmer temple. Visitors are welcomed by incredibly steep and narrow stairs and a sign that would become familiar over the next few days: “Warning!!! Climbing at Your Own Risk.” Once reaching the top, we had a commanding view of the Cambodian countryside, a view of mountains over fifty miles away, and even the peak of Angkor Wat’s tallest tower.

Starting to get a bit tired, we planned to head to Srah Srang, a large bathing pool closer still to Siem Reap, for a beer. Instead of doing this, however, our attention was captured by the gate to the neighboring Banteay Kdei, which was adorned with four faces of Lokesvara. Neither Lonely Planet nor Rough Guides had much to say about Banteay Kdei, so we weren’t sure what to expect. Partly because it was, in fact, quite impressive, and partly because there were few other visitors, Banteay Kdei quickly became our favorite. Though not imposing, nor intricately carved – though it did feature many fine apsara dancers – Banteay Kdei was impressive as it continued for a seemingly endless distance with each corner revealing something new or unexpected. Large white kapok trees and lotus ponds only added to its beauty.

From Banteay Kdei, we decided to make a quick sunset stop at Angkor Wat. Though there was no sunset to speak of, we got a taste of the majestic enormity of the pride of Cambodia. A good appetizer, we headed back to town for a shower, a rest, dinner, and an early bedtime.

10/10/07 – Temples by Tuk-Tuk Day 2
At 4:30am I got a text message from Kurt. It was time to get up. We were heading to Phnom Bakheng, amidst the temples of Angkor for sunrise. We arrived while it was still a bit dark out and were a bit surprised to find a handful of elephants at the base of the hill waiting to shuttle tourists to the top. We made the short hike to the top as the sun started coming up, reaching it at the perfect time. We were greeted by an unexpected 9th century temple with a commanding view of the area around us, including Angkor Wat and the enormous Tonle Sap Lake. Though we didn’t get a real sunrise, it was beautiful and comparatively deserted. Adding to the aura surrounding the serene setting, chants of prayer from a nearby modern-day temple reached the top of the hill.

Now awake and hungry, we got a delicious pancake breakfast at one of the food stalls inside the immense three-square kilometer Angkor Thom complex. Finishing breakfast and wanting a nap, we instead walked along the Terrace of the Elephants, a 300m long temple wall carved with life-size elephants. Heading the other direction, we went to The Bayon. From afar, it looked, quite simply, like a pile of rubble. Once inside, however, it quickly became (and remained) my favorite site of the trip. Not only did The Bayon have large and intricate bas-relief carvings depicting Hindu scenes and naval battles, but each of the fifty-four towers within the complex are adorned with four face of Lokesvara, one facing each direction. Though it was busy, it was not difficult to find quiet and dark corners to escape to and quite often it was these spots that had the most impressive views or carvings.

After a short stop to the unimpressive – I was starting to get a bit desensitized – Ta Keo temple, we went to Ta Prohm, which became my second most favorite site. Though Ta Prohm was in comparatively poor shape, the manner in which the jungle overcame the temple was quite impressive. Enormous kapok trees grew over the gates and temple throughout, their roots strangling the entirety of the temple complex, but making it an idyllic setting. Ta Prohm was by far the most crowded of the temples – though Angkor Wat probably had a greater number of people – but here, too, it was possible to escape the crowds by straying from the path and exploring the perimeter of the temple as well as some of the more difficult to traverse ruins.

Though it was only about 1:00pm, we had already been up for over eight hours and were ready for a rest. We grabbed a quick lunch before I burned some pictures to CD, so as not to run out of space, and took a nice and much-needed nap. When I woke up, it was raining which, as we were planning to head to Angkor Wat, was less than ideal. We made the trip over anyway, and because Tory had to leave the following day, we hurried through. The bas-reliefs lining the walls – some several hundred meters long and several meters tall – were almost as impressive the main towers of Angkor Wat. Quite disappointing, however, was the fact that access to the five towers that make Angkor Wat famous were closed to the public; apparently several clumsy tourists had stumbled on the steep and narrow stairs and, as a result, ruined the experience for everyone else. Nonetheless, Angkor Wat was quite impressive, but all the hype made it a bit less so – of all the sites we visited, I’d probably put Angkor Wat fourth or even fifth.

After cleaning up a bit, we met some other recently arrived friends, Jen and Joslyn – who work for Catholic Relief Service in Cambodia – and Joslyn’s visiting boyfriend, Nir, for dinner. Heading back to the Pub Street area we got some really good pizza and wine. It’s a rough life…

10/11/07 – Day of Templing and Relaxing
With Tory on her way back to Phnom Penh and Joslyn, Jen, and Nir doing their own thing, Kurt and I again got up early – 4:30am – for sunrise at The Bayon. Though it did not come with the view of Phnom Bakheng, sunrise at The Bayon was equally impressive. Again, we didn’t have a real sunrise, but we had the entire temple complex more or less to ourselves. Like with Phnom Bakheng we could hear prayer being chanted from a nearby wat and a few monks made the trek up The Bayon to pray to some of the Buddha statues within.

After another hearty pancake breakfast, we went to one of the modern temples within Angkor Thom. Though quiet we had the pleasure of seeing an unusual sight. There were a few kids around, a few monks, and a monkey. The monkey was trying to sneak in to the temple to take the offerings to the large Buddha statue, which included bananas. One of the monks, in an unusually aggressive action for a monk, threatened the monkey with a broom. The monkey briefly scattered, but promptly returned to the monk’s dismay. The monk eventually acquiesced, giving the monkey a banana. I felt like I was witnessing a Curious George book come to life.

From Angkor Thom and The Bayon, Kurt and I headed back to Angkor Wat. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too crowded and we finally had the chance to enjoy the enormous bas-reliefs, the large complex itself, and a beautiful sky. It was refreshing to be there on one of the most important days of Pchom Ben, as there were may have been more Cambodians there – all dressed up – as foreigners. After exploring thoroughly, Kurt and I went to a modern wat on the grounds of Angkor Wat. It was packed for Pchom Ben, when, for a period of fifteen days, Cambodians are to go to the temple as often as they are able, bringing rice, fruit, and money with them. Kurt and I waded through the crowds, watched groups of people praying, and bought some Cambodian fruits, some of which looked and tasted like olives and others which looked like peanuts but were actually a small, chalky fruit.

Having woken up early, we were again exhausted and decided to spend the afternoon relaxing. We went back to our guesthouses (Kurt stayed in a nicer place, more like a hotel, with restaurant and pool). I changed into a bathing suit and went over to Kurt’s hotel. We grabbed a quick lunch at the restaurant and then sat by the pool. Kurt quickly decided to head back to his room for a nap; I read a little bit, then napped myself for a while, before going for a quick swim. After drying off from my swim, I treated myself to a massage (again, rough life…). Though I only paid for an hour, I got the best hour and a half long massage I’ve ever gotten, by far. The most rewarding part, however, was the conclusion, where, for the first time, I carried on a full conversation in Khmer, understanding most of what the women present were saying and able to respond in kind.

After the massage, and with Kurt still asleep, I headed back to my guesthouse. On the way, I got a call from Joslyn, inviting me to join her, Jen, and Nir for sunset at Angkor Wat. It was clear, and likely to be a good sunset, so I got a tuk-tuk, picked them up at the ticket station, and used my three-day pass one last time. For once, the sunset was beautiful and I saw Angkor Wat in the best light it had been in over the past three days. As it was Joslyn and Nir’s first trip, we wandered throughout the complex, enjoying the beautiful sky throughout.

10/12/07 – Departure
Though I had intended to visit a Tonle Sap Lake floating village, the one I wanted to go to, which is a bit further than the more popular one with tourists, was prohibitively expensive as I was on my own – Kurt was on his way home and Jen, Joslyn, and Nir were templing. Instead, I decided to wander around in the morning, get a nice breakfast, and perhaps to visit a wat in town. The place I intended to go for breakfast was closed, so I wandered around looking for another place to go. It was fairly early – my clock adjusted to getting up quite early I guess – so the town was pretty quiet. I happened to stumble on to Pub Street where none other than Joslyn and Nir were breakfasting. I joined them before they got their day started.

Following breakfast – again a pancake, but this time with fruit salad, and a baguette – I wandered to Wat Bo. Wat Bo is an 18th century still functioning temple in a quiet part of town. Walking down a dirt road, I managed to find it. I took a quick tour of the small complex before moving towards the main temple. Just across from the temple, I saw three very elderly monks sitting around and chatting. I went over to say ‘hi’ and they were incredibly welcoming. They, of course, spoke no English, and I again got the chance to practice my Khmer. After a few minutes of chatting, they invited me to sit with them. I took off my shoes, and sat on the prayer mat in the appropriate manner with my legs off to the side. Though the monks were thin, frail, and very poor, they promptly brought me a bottle of water, a dozen bananas, and a bag of cookies, which they insisted I eat and enjoy. We spoke for fifteen minutes or so about where I was from, how I liked Siem Reap, the places I visited, how old I was, whether or not I was married (a popular question here for anyone over say, fifteen), and so on. Realizing I was short on time, I followed a younger monk into the temple itself which had the original drawings from the 19th century, complete with scenes from every day life, Chinese men smoking opium, and even French colonizers enjoying a traditional apsara dance. Before leaving, I took a picture of the oldest and most frail monk, showing him the image. He smiled and asked if I could get him a copy of it. I promised him I would come back in December with my parents and a copy of the picture.

I checked out of my guesthouse and headed to the bus station. The ride back was not nearly as painful as the ride there; it was over two hours shorter. I also had the pleasure of sitting next to an adorable three year-old boy and his father. Every time the boy wanted my attention, he yelped a high-pitch shriek. He also enjoyed touching the book I was reading and hitting my hand with his and trying to lift it before I could close mine upon his. I suppose that’s more than enough of an adventure for now. My next entry will be a step back in time to another exploit I had with His Excellency before I left for Siem Reap, one that I think far outweighs the first.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Breakfast with His Excellency

On Saturday morning and with Shanti working for the day, I set off to the local butcher, Dan's Meats, to get some minced beef (for burgers), salami, and bacon. On my way downstairs, however, I was greeted quite warmly by the owner of our house, a man we call ay otdam - meaning "his excellency" in Khmer - and a member of the National Assembly. Our communication has always been cordial, though limited, both by his hectic schedule and his minimal English (we have, however, occasionally conversed in French).

A word on the Excellency's appearance: he is fairly short with thin, black hair, glasses, and an eager smile. He is probably in his mid-60s. He is well-dressed, wearing slacks, a short-sleeve button-down shirt, and leather sandals. He looks a bit like Mao with more hair, glasses, and a slightly darker complexion.

On this particular Saturday morning, His Excellency invited me to breakfast. He also invited my 'wife,' Shanti, an assumption I did not dispute as it is not exactly kosher for unmarried couples to live together in Cambodia (which, I might add, is somewhat ironic in the face of the flourishing sex trade). Anyways, at first I said that I had already eaten and that I was going to do some errands. Then, thinking better of my refusal, I decided that there was no reason not to join the Excellency for a meal. Sure, it is a bit awkward for someone working on anti-corruption issues to schmooze with a National Assemblyman who sits on the Anti-Corruption Committee and who drives a brand-new Lexus SUV. But I came to Cambodia looking for adventure and a one-on-one breakfast with the Excellency was sure to be an adventure.

I hopped into the Lexus, driven by the Excellency himself and not his driver, admiring the soft leather seats, the in-dash DVD player, and the rear bumper camera to assist when going reverse. Munching on fresh baguettes, hash browns, bacon, and sausage, we chatted about the basics of our lives. We asked about each others' travels (he's been to a number of places in Asia and to Europe several times), families (three sons and two daughters), and so on. He gave me a very brief history of his life (from teacher, to Ministry of Tourism official, to provincial governor, to national assemblyman).

Out of nowhere, really, the Excellency extended his arms toward me with a big smile on his face and looked at me. "You," he said, "you are my son. And your wife, she is my daughter-in-law." Needless to say, I was touched - almost as much as I was amused.

Driving back to the house in the Lexus, he played a Khmer karaoke DVD, asking me if I liked Khmer music. I agreed that I did and I believe he invited me and Shanti to join him in going to a karaoke bar, an offer I will not be able to refuse if extended. Moreover, the Excellency invited me, his 'son,' and my 'wife' to come to stay with him in Kampot (the quaint town Shanti and I visited in mid-August), an offer we will have to take him up on in the near future. Anyways, I will certainly keep you posted on any and all worthwhile Excellency-related contacts.

Monday, October 1, 2007

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.