Is It Blogging If You Don't Actually Post?

I apologize for the lack of posts in the last two weeks. I haven't been feeling like an inspired writer. However, I promise to post early next week, probably on Aziza, an organization where Shanti and I have been volunteering for a few hours a week. Though I haven't been writing, I finally uploaded more pictures from the past two months in Phnom Penh. You can enjoy them here.

The Year of the Rat

As China ushered in the New Year just over a week ago, Phnom Penh was celebrating too. Many Cambodians have Chinese blood and celebrate both their Khmer and Chinese heritages. Throughout the first several days of the new year – the celebration is fifteen days in all – large trucks full of costumed dancers canvassed Phnom Penh, performing traditional dragon dances for those willing to cough up a bit of cash.

While watching the Super Bowl, I met a Cambodian-American who recently moved back to Phnom Penh. She invited me and Shanti and another friend to go to her family’s restaurant to see a dragon dance up close. The performance was quite impressive, with a half dozen boys suiting up into three dragon costumes. Before starting their dance, we all got to try on the dragon mask. For the next forty-five minutes we were entertained by the shaking, jumping, and teasing of the three dragons and the banging of a dozen different drums. Before leaving though, the dragons rushed into the restaurant with the crowd following closely behind. A number of oranges – good luck – were left on the floor and after “eating” them, the dragons peeled the oranges and arranged the sections into intricate Chinese lettering on the floor.

A few days later, I ushered in the Year of the Rat in a different way than I intended. Traveling for work I accompanied a coworker to the remote province of Banteay Meanchey. With a friend of his, we went to lunch. After we had a round of Coke, a plate arrived on our table. I immediately recognized the plate of food as three fried rats. Many Cambodians had told me that field rat is delicious, but I was not eager to find out for myself. Though the heads were removed, the claws and all else reminded. Thinking that this may be my only choice for lunch, I grabbed a rat and started nibbling, silently praising the waitress for at least bringing a good lime and pepper dipping sauce. I doused the bit of fried rat meat and thinking of anything else I could, ate it. As long as I could use my imagination, it didn’t taste that bad with the sauce and a few gulps of Coke. When I had “finished,” an enormous fish was brought out and I had no choice but to curse the rat that was not the main course but the appetizer. Let’s hope eating the Year of the Rat is good luck…

Yes We Can

On Saturday, February 9th, it was not just the residents of Louisiana, Nebraska, and Washington that flocked to the polls to vote. American voters, registered with Democrats Abroad (myself included) headed to none-other-than USA Donuts in Phnom Penh to cast our votes in the Democratic primary process. For the first time, Democrat expatriates get a say in the party nominating process, receiving a total of eleven delegates at the National Convention (there is no equivalent for the GOP).

So after running some errands, Shanti and I grabbed our passports and set off for USA Donuts. USA Donuts is a quirky restaurant/market owned by a Cambodian who fled to the U.S. during the Khmer Rouge years. Though we had never been before, I had met the owner during Water Festival, where he had set up a riverside stall. "I buy at Costco!" he yelled out to the throngs of people passing by. Now, several months later and at USA Donuts itself, it appears as if we have entered a Costco/Dunkin Donuts hybrid. Half of the shop is stocked with bulk goods (a dozen boxes of Kraft Macaroni and cheese in one package, enormous boxes of cereal, a gallon of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup, etc) and the other half is a homey donut shop.

When Shanti and I arrived at about mid-day there was a relatively sizable crowd of perhaps seventy-five filling out paperwork outside, browsing about in the store and, yes, eating donuts. Across the street from our polling place two tuk-tuks were parked with large Obama '08 banners across them. It was the perfect combination of American political culture and Cambodian transportation culture. After chatting a bit with several of the people we recognized and filling out a simple form, we cast our ballots. In exchange, we were given a delicious glazed donut hole. What better way to fulfill your civic duty in Cambodia than by meeting friends at a donut shop?

Though the full results are not yet in (Internet and fax voting continued through February 12th), I am pleased to report that Barack Obama won the paper vote quite handily (78% to 21% for Clinton). The story was covered not only in the local English paper, The Cambodia Daily, but also in the San Francisco Chronicle.

A Moment

Yesterday, I was riding home from work on my bike when I shared a moment with a fellow bike rider. As I pedaled down Street 294 towards Monivong, I pulled alongside a Khmer guy about the same age as me. For a second, our eyes met and we smiled at one another, acknowledging our shared existence. At that very moment all of the differences between us dissipated. I wasn't American and he wasn't Cambodian, I wasn't a foreigner and he wasn't a local and neither our education levels nor our material wealth mattered. Riding side by side for the length of the street, about a kilometer, we were just two guys on our bicycles and we could have been anywhere at any time. Though it was the kind of connection that isn't easy to come by and certainly isn't long lasting, it was strong enough to make me wonder how different - or similar - the world's people really are.

Are You Ready for Some Football???

For some reason, I was particularly excited about the Super Bowl this year. Am I big football fan? No, but I do enjoy watching the Redskins win. Am I Giants or Pats fan? No. Had I been following the playoffs closely? No. So why the excitement? To be honest, I'm not exactly sure. Part of the reason, I think, is that I miss the good ol' U.S. of A. sometimes and that the Super Bowl was a connection back to the homeland.

Now, you are probably asking yourselves, do they get American football games on TV in Cambodia? The answer: occasionally. But for the Super Bowl, I wasn't taking any chances. A few friends and I planned to go to The Gym, which bills itself as "Cambodia's premier sports bar and pub." The problem? There's a twelve-hour time difference between the east coast of the U.S. and Phnom Penh. That's right folks, kick-off was at 6:30am on Monday. No worries though, because I got the morning off from an understanding boss. And even though Shanti thought I was (and thinks I am) crazy, I woke up at 5:45am, showered, dressed in my work clothes, and set off, in the dark and rain - yes, it rained even though it's supposed to be the dry season - to The Gym.

The crowd was a bit sparse at first, but ex-pats, some of whom I recognized, filtered into an ideal setting for watching sporting events. There were three projection TVs (I'd guess 60" each) in addition to about two dozen smaller sets. I grabbed a table with a friend and we had an excellent, and comfortable, view of one of the projection sets. While many of the bar's patrons had a drink in hand - be it beer, screwdriver, or tequila sunrise - I elected to forgo an eye opener. I was hungry though, and it just didn't seem right to have pancakes or an omelette during the Super Bowl. My solution? Why a cheeseburger of course! In case you're wondering, it was delicious.

The only disappointment was the commercials. Since the bar had satellite television, I figured we might get some of the Super Bowl ads from the States, but this was not the case. Luckily, the game was a good one and actually warranted my attention. The crowd, for the most part, was pretty passive. There weren't any die hard Giants fans, but there was one hardcore Pats fans. Those familiar with the Boston-area would join me in calling him a Masshole. He wore a Tom Brady jersey and made it very clear to customers as well as those on the television, that he was supporting the Pats. Gotta admire how much those Bostonians love sports...

With the game over and a cheeseburger and a Coke in my belly, I headed off to work.; somehow the work day is that much better if you go in two and a half hours late after an exciting football game.

A New Low

On Saturday Shanti and I were running some errands around Central Market and Sorya Shopping Center, Cambodia's premier mall (though it's not exactly a mall by western standards). As we were leaving, we were approached by a slim, middle-aged western man. He wore pants and an old t-shirt and had short, red hair and dirty teeth. After confirming that we spoke English, he told us that he was Australian and that his bag - including all of his money and credit cards, but not his passport - had been stolen by a tuk-tuk driver at Russian Market. Shanti and I listened intently as he told us that the Australian Embassy was closed and that he needed just a few dollars to make a phone call to Australia to have some money wired to him. It was a compelling story, so when Shanti started to open her purse to give him $1, I grabbed her arm and shook my head no. I was told the same story by the same man perhaps three months ago near the Royal Palace. When I told him that he tried a similar tale on me a few months back, he looked stunned and quickly walked off. I related the story to another friend who confirmed that he too was approached by the same man with the same story within the last several weeks.

The man's presence in Cambodia is troubling, if not angering, for a number of reasons. The first time I saw him, I assumed he was traveling through Cambodia, not staying a long period of time. His reappearance confirms that his ploy is working well enough that he has chosen to stay and it is safe to assume he comes with a host of problems - I wouldn't be surprised if his desire for more funds from tourists and ex-pats is fueled by a drug problem or involvement in the thriving sex tourism industry in Cambodia. Most aggravating, however, is the mere presence of a clearly successful western beggar in Cambodia (when so many Cambodians are more deserving). The icing on the cake is that he places blame on a Cambodian - the tuk-tuk driver that supposedly ripped him off - as his reason for asking for money. The believability of his story (Shanti has had her bag stolen) is as frightening - surely if I was in his supposed position, I would want help - as it is unfair to the people of Cambodia. They deserve better than to have their name tarnished or the few tourist dollars that make it to a beggar's pocket pilfered by such a man.