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…