The Composer

This past Friday my friend Pat invited me and Shanti (and my friend Liora who was in town) to attend an art opening of sorts hosted by his family. The event was held in the gallery by Wat Phnom, which Pat's uncle is in charge of operating.

When we first arrived, we weren't sure if we were in the right place. Because we looked like tourists and because it was a private event, we were initially discouraged from entering. I spotted Pat inside though and we worked our way over to him. As a live band played Khmer music, both old and new, Pat gave us a tour of the facilities. His uncle had just completed a series of large dioramas depicting various periods, from the Angkor empire of the thirteenth century to the present day.

After our tour we were seated at a table with a group of Khmer people, friends of Pat's aunt and uncle. We were supplied with ample beer and Johnnie Walker (they love the stuff all over Asia) as well as fresh spring rolls, noodles, and curry. We nibbled at our food, sipped our drinks, and chatted a bit with our table neighbors, most of whom spoke limited English.

About thirty minutes into our meal, a man came over and very enthusiastically - and in very good English - introduced himself and his son as composers. We were quite interested and encouraged him to join the band for a song or two. He promised us he would play an English song so that we could sing along. Before the next song, he told us that composing was only his hobby, his actual job was working for the National Police. He handed me a business card - a photocopy of his ID - to reveal that not only was he in the police, but that he was a Lieutenant Colonel. A Lieutenant Colonel composer??

As he took the stage he picked up a guitar and started singing a popular 80s love song that I know only by its chorus, "when you love someone/somebody" (it's not Bryan Adams). His singing, which was quite good and without an accent, was rivaled only by his guitar playing, which was excellent (he even took a solo!). Cheering him on at the end of the song, we shouted "mouy tiet" ("one more") and he obliged without hesitation. It was a very impressive display and I now have his card in my wallet to remember him by and, more importantly, to help me out if I get into any trouble.