Quote for the Day

At Physique Club in the Cambodiana Hotel a new list of rules and regulations has been prominently posted. I found one of the rules particularly humorous:

"Please use deodorize if necessary. (Foul body odor is offensive)."

I can't say I disagree, but I am very curious as to how this will be enforced.

A Fish "Massage"

This past Sunday we headed for another of Phnom Penh's bizarre offerings: a fish "massage." Popular in Malaysia, recently opened in the Washington, DC area and, oddly enough, of Turkish origin, the fish massage entails sticking your feet into a pool with several hundred garra rufa fish or "doctor fish" which nibble at your dead skin, essentially giving you a pedicure. We knew of several people who had been before - a few in Malaysia and a few in Phnom Penh - each of which found the experience worthwhile.

So it was on Sunday morning that we headed to Monorom Professional Massage with a group of five other friends. We were welcomed by a staff of several and ushered into a unisex changing room. Once inside, we were given lockers and issued our outfits. The girls were given bike shorts and sports bras and the guys were given incredibly small and tight bike shorts. The only time I'd ever worn something so tight was when I was too young to dress myself and was issued a Speedo as a bathing suit by my parents. In addition to our "swim" gear, we were given silk robes and shorts which made me feel as if I were prepping for a kickboxing fight.

Once changed we were shown into a small chamber with what looked like a ten person hot tub. We removed our silk robe and shorts and, one by one, we crawled into the pool so that we were sitting at ground level with our legs out straight. The doctor fish immediately flocked to our feet and began nibbling at our callouses and dead skin. It tickled tremendously. To ease the tension a bit and help us relax, Wes and Savin mixed champagne and sugar cane juice cocktails and turned on their iPod docking station. After a few minutes of uncomfortable ticklishness, we settled in for a half hour of munching.

I'm not sure that I can say that it was relaxing, but it was certainly a unique and enjoyable experience. Throughout the process, the fish continued to nibble and did not seem to be satiated even when we left. During our time in the pool, they did make more room in their bellies so to speak, relieving themselves in the pool and revealing what looked like miniature onion strings. After a half an hour though, my feet and the other areas in which I got attention from the doctor fish - hands, legs, even chest - were indeed much softer. Putting our silk robes back on, we hit the showers and changed out of our hot pants and back into our clothes.

I can say quite confidently that I never thought that I was going to pay to have my feet nibbled by fish. But I can also say quite confidently that I have come to expect the unexpected. For $5, it was certainly a worthwhile experience (I wouldn't shell out the $50 they're asking for for the same amount of time at the spa in DC) and one that I will repeat with visitors to Phnom Penh.

The Chinese Noodle Restaurant

On Monivong, four blocks south of Sihanouk lies a nondescript restaurant with a red and white sign reading "The Chinese Noodle Restaurant." It doesn't look like anything special, but it most definitely is.

Entering the restaurant, you first pass the main kitchen which is, in fact, outside. To the left are pots of boiling water and a glass case which features some of the signature dishes. To the right is a metal butchers table used for rolling out several varieties of noodles by hand; during the lunch and dinner hours, one of the employees is usually tossing the dough into the air, kneading it, and stretching it out, certainly in and of itself worthy of a trip. Inside the restaurant are a dozen metal folding tables, each of which has four pink plastic lawn chairs around it. To the back of the restaurant is a sort of bar and refrigeration unit as well as a wall-mounted television which usually plays Chinese-language kung fu movies, the news, or more recently, the Olympics.

The clientele at the Chinese Noodle Shop is quite diverse. It is certainly a popular spot with westerners (as many NGOs are close by), but there is always a mix of Cambodians and Chinese and often with an odd and seemingly out-of-place sprinkling of Mormons. The staff is all Cambodian, save the "manager" who is Chinese. We have never seen her smile, but she is courteous and direct when handling the bill. We're not sure that she speaks any Khmer, so upon leaving, we are sure to utter "shay shay" (thank you in Chinese) instead of "aw koon."

As soon as you are seated at one of the extremely ordinary tables, you are brought mugs of Chinese tea. On each table is the menu, under a layer of clear plastic, napkins, bottles of fish, soy, and chili sauce, sugar, a mixture of soy sauce and chilies, and toothpicks. As one might expect of a noodle shop, noodle dishes feature prominently on the menu, but there are also dumplings and veggie and tofu dishes.

I was lucky enough to be brought to the Chinese Noodle Restaurant shortly after arriving in Cambodia. As suggested by my host, I ordered the boiled dumplings and created a concoction of soy sauce and the soy/chili mixture. A few minutes later a plate of a dozen steaming dumplings arrived. Though fresh out of a pot of boiling hot of water, I dug in and certainly did not regret it. The dumplings were probably the best I've ever tasted, though to this day I'm not entirely sure what they're filled with; I think pork and chives.

The first several times that I went with Shanti and others, we ordered only dumplings, sometimes getting boiled, sometimes getting fried and sometimes getting both. It was not until a few months after we began to frequent the noodle shop that we expanded our repertoire. At first we expanded to a fried noodles with beef dish - phenomenal - which is a mix of the fresh noodles, egg, onions and carrots. Eventually, we added the fried green beans with garlic and mushrooms. Now I'm not one to get excited about vegetables, especially cooked ones, but these green beans, just drenched in garlic, are the best cooked vegetable I've ever had and are quite possibly, my favorite dish. We have tried a number of other dishes, including some of the other veggie dishes and some of the tofu dishes, but I think we're pretty happy with the combination of dumplings, fried noodles with beef, and green beans.

It's quite difficult to describe how good the noodles, dumplings, and green beans actually are, but if the number of trips made to the noodle shop by people visiting Phnom Penh is any indication, well, they're pretty damn good. In just four days in Phnom Penh, my parents and sister went three times. In about two weeks in town, Justin and Ashley went about a half dozen times. Shanti and I usually go at least once a week.

Wouldn't going out so often get expensive, you may ask? Ah, now that's where the true beauty of the Chinese Noodle Restaurant takes effect. A dozen dumplings: $1.20 (formerly $1); fried noodles with beef: $1.70; the green beans: $1.50. Thus, a typical lunch costs roughly two dollars a person, a price as easy to swallow as any of the restaurant's specialties. When I return to the US, the Chinese Noodle Restaurant and the tradition of going weekly, will be one of the things I miss most.

A Weekend with His Excellency

Earlier this week, His Excellency approached Shanti, inviting us to join him in Kampot for a celebration of his recent electoral victory. Though we had planned to go to Phum Ampil in Svay Rieng with Shanti's friend Peter, who was in town for a few days, the idea of celebrating anything with His Excellency was too good to pass up.

Throughout the week we gathered additional information about the trip and the celebration: that the whole family would be there, that we could dress casually, and that we could get a ride down to Kampot on Saturday morning - hopefully in the Lexus. His Excellency's grandchildren were incredibly excited about the possibility of being able to dance and play with us and we were looking forward to another trip into the unknown and perhaps at gaining some additional insight into our landlord's life and family.

On Saturday morning, after running a few errands, we met on the ground floor of the house. His Excellency had gone to Kampot on Friday and his daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren had already left. A bit after 10:45, a van with "State" plates pulled up and we were ushered inside. Through a mix of Khmer and English, we found out that we were sharing the van with part of the National Assembly's media team, including a photographer and a videographer. We sped down to Kampot at roughly 100km/h, bouncing around in the back of the van, much to the amusement of the driver.

A lunch stop, three bathroom stops, and about four hours of jostling later, we passed through Kampot town and, several kilometers beyond, pulled on to a dirt road to a guesthouse. About a half kilometer further, the road forked to the right and we saw His Excellency's Lexus as well as the son-in-law's car. We were a bit confused: had His Excellency booked out the guesthouse for us and his family?

When we got out of the van, we were immediately greeted by His Excellency's wife and his English-speaking granddaughter who lives in Sihanoukville. Again, through a mix of English and Khmer, we learned that in addition to owning the beautiful riverfront land that the guesthouse sits on, they have an expansive fruit plantation for a total of about ten acres. We were shown to our incredibly nice bungalow with a cement frame, thatch roof and wooden porch, jutting out over the river. The view was phenomenal and, as with most trips to southern Cambodia, we were immediately relaxed. As we were chatting, the granddaughter was sent away and returned a moment later with two dozen fresh bananas.

After settling in a little, we wandered around the property. The fruit plantation was very impressive: a mix of bananas, mangoes, papayas, longyens, mangosteens, pomelos, milkfruit, jackfruit, durian, and several kinds of fruit we couldn't name. It quickly became quite clear why they like spending so much time there and, I must admit, we felt a bit foolish for not having made the time to join them sooner.

As we took a more thorough tour of the guesthouse, we chatted with the owner, who agreed that it would be incredibly difficult to find better landlords. He also went on to describe His Excellency's wife's fondness for the fruit plantation, saying that most days she's around she wades into the fruit trees in her pajamas and with a sickle and that she knows each plant on the ten acres. Following our chat we went in search of His Excellency's house. It was a bit off the river amidst fruit trees and definitely one of the coolest houses I've seen in Cambodia. It was made entirely of wood and had three levels - very unusual for rural Cambodia - with most of the space outside and only a few interior rooms. His Excellency's wife welcomed us inside, family members spilling over on all levels and the grandchildren splayed out asleep on the top floor. After a quick tour of the house, His Excellency's wife gave us her version of the tour of the plantation; it was evident how proud she was.

Sitting on the porch of our bungalow, we enjoyed some of the deliciously sweet and fresh bananas and relaxed before the evening's celebration. The English speaking granddaughter came to practice her English with us for a little while, informing us that the party tonight was going to be a big one, with three or four families and perhaps twenty-one people. After a bit more relaxing, we got dressed for the evening, with Peter and me in khakis and short-sleeve collared shirts and Shanti in a skirt. As we wandered out to the cars, we felt quite under-dressed. All of the men were in dress slacks, closed-toe shoes, and most were wearing long-sleeve button-down shirts. We shrugged and set off into Kampot town.

After crossing the bridge from the far side of the river, we took the first right. Immediately, we could see that the street was lined with dozens of shiny black Lexus SUVs and Mercedes sedans. The van stopped and we were ushered out and into the venue, a Chinese school, by a security guard. There were already several hundred people present, most dressed far from casual ,including more people wearing ties in one place than I've seen in the last year combined. As we were taken to our table, everyone turned to look at the barangs; we were, of course, the only white people around and it would remain so for the duration of the evening. We sat at our table in awe of how big the event was - there was a band set up, seating for about 500, and a VIP stage and table. We wondered who else would be making an appearance besides His Excellency.

Seats continued to fill as it approached 5:30. Then the cameras rushed to the entrance to capture the entrance of the first VIP. It was His Excellency, looking very sharp in a Chinese-style black bureaucrats uniform. He was followed by his entire family and many others in an entourage of several dozen. The cameras followed his entrance and it was not until then that we realized that the whole event - the cameras, the 500 people, the band - was for His Excellency. After handshakes and hellos, he took his place on stage and in Khmer, an emcee welcomed everyone.

Over the next half hour, we gathered a general understanding of the proceedings; basically, a listing of who had donated what to the party over the previous year. Then, His Excellency gave a speech. We didn't really have any idea what he was talking about, but we were surprised to discover how good a speaker he was. He seemed to place emphasis in all of the right places and his words were well accentuated by his hand motions. We were definitely impressed. His Excellency's speech was followed by a ceremony in which envelopes, presumably with money in them, were handed out to fervent party supporters and a number of guests received medals, including one of His Excellency's sons.

And then the beer began to flow. Each table of eight was given either one or two cases of beer, which quickly made it in to the glasses and then the bellies of those sitting around it. In Cambodian culture it is impolite to take a sip of your drink without first inviting those at your table to join and it is equally impolite - practically impossible - to refuse an invitation. Therefore, every time that you want to take even a sip, it becomes a long, drawn-out cheers, which can often lead to a "lug die" or bottom's up. Over the course of dinner - about an hour and a half - I'm pretty sure that our table went through close to two cases and it left us a bit, well, intoxicated.

And then there was lots of dancing. We joined most of His Excellency's family in dancing around a table in the traditional Cambodian style. As we did so, we inevitably got laughs and pointers from other guests, including a particularly jolly taa (grandfather) and yay (grandmother), who gave Peter a solid pat on the behind. We continued to dance for some time and before we knew it, almost everyone had left and most of the tables and chairs had been packed away. Despite this, we continued to dance, even unsuccessfully trying to persuade His Excellency's driver and grandchildren to join us. At the rather premature hour of 9:00 the party ended and we piled back into the van, where our fun continued. We took silly pictures and, for some reason, started a round of 99 bottles of beer on the wall (we made it to 74 by the time we got back).

Before departing on Sunday morning, there was a beautiful sunrise over the river and Peter went for a quick swim across the river for an impressive back flip off a rope swing (yes, it looked awesome). We had to leave a bit early in order for Peter to catch his flight back to the US, but we will certainly be back, though I can't imagine that there will be as big a party next time...

A Word on Bus Travel

It's been over a year since I got here and I've spent enough time on buses that I find it somewhat remarkable that I haven't posted specifically on bus travel. Traveling by bus in Cambodia is often exhilirating, loud, disgusting and uncomfortable and rarely does it get you to your destination quickly. More often than not, the buses are a model of inefficiency, though they are quite cheap.

By western standards, Cambodian roads are terrible. The national roads - note they're not even called highways - are barely two lanes wide without any sort of divider or shoulder and often lacking in the pavement department. Adding to the levels of exhilaration (some may say discomfort), it is almost immediately apparent that the rules governing road use appear to be practically non-existent. There are a few that I've picked up on though. The size of your vehicle is directly proportional to the amount of power you are able to wield, placing buses and trucks high on the totem pole and pedestrians very, very low. When passing or attempting pass a vehicle, it is essential to beep your horn as many times and as loudly as possible, to warn the vehicle you are passing to stay to the right and often to slow down so that you don't slam into oncoming traffic - there doesn't seem to be any sort of rule disallowing passing around corners or when there is traffic coming from the other direction. Oncoming traffic will flash their lights at you to ensure that you are aware of their presence, but rarely will they slow down.

Adding to the excitement further is the mix of transportation aloud on national roads:

• Taxis (i.e. Toyota Camrys) packed with eight people, including two in the driver's seat.
• Minibuses meant for fifteen people packed with either: thirty people plus five or six people on the roof or a ridiculous amount of one kind of product, like several tons of pineapple or an equal amount of cement.
• Private cars, often Cambodia's elite, driving their Lexuses and Mercedeses with total disregard for anything else on the road; it is not unusual for these vehicles to be traveling over eighty miles an hour despite poor road conditions.
• Motos, usually just a few people, but sometimes loaded with sacks of rice, crates of piglets, chickens hanging upside down, mattresses (I've seen up to four), and sometimes carts attached with rice, wood, or recyclables packed fifteen feet high.
• Trucks, always overloaded and either moving incredibly slowly and blocking traffic or frighteningly fast.
• Buses which look modern, but are all but. If they're running properly, they dominate the roads, driving all other vehicles on to the non-existent shoulders. However, they are often not running properly and you will often see them on the side of the road making repairs.
• Tractors unlike any seen in the west - they're twenty feet long, with the engine about ten feet in front of the driver, who has long metal poles to steer. Often used as local transport, with field workers stuffed into a cart attached.
• Bicycles, usually hordes of kids in blue shorts or skirts and white button-down shirts leaving school.
• Ox carts carting clay pots.
• Horse carts, more like pony carts which sort of resemble an Asian version of a Greek chariot.

Back to the bus. If you're going to Siem Reap or Sihanoukville, it's possible to spend a few extra dollars on an "express" or "limousine" bus, which is slightly newer and better maintained. However, for all other destinations, you will be rocking out on an old piece of crap. Fabric will be missing from seat cushions, air conditioning will only work for the first five minutes, seats will not recline, etc. However, despite the generally poor quality of buses, each and every one is equipped with a DVD/VCD (video CD system), which, for the duration of the ride, blares one of three things: Khmer karaoke, poorly dubbed kung fu movies, or slapstick humor (not all that far from the Three Stooges). About thirty minutes into the ride, you're ready to get off. Lucky for you, the bus makes an obsurd amount of stops, letting passengers on and off, seemingly at random.

Depending on the length of your ride, you will also make several stops for food. Trips from three to five hours will make two stops and those over five hours will make at least three stops. For some reason which I have not yet determined Cambodians use travel as an excuse to absolutely pig out, chowing down at every stop and stocking up with food for the ride to the next stop. Fruit is popular as are eggs, fish, sticky rice dishes, and pre-packaged snacks. I wouldn't be surprised if the average bus passenger spends more money on food in a four-hour journey than on the journey itself (usually about $5). Now, I have absolutely no problem with gorging oneself on tasty snacks. However, the combination of stuffing oneself with the startling propensity towards road sickness is unsettling. The problem is so bad that the bus companies often hand out black plastic bags at the beginning of trips for passengers to use as a receptacle for the "return" of all of the food they just consumed. It does not seem to me that anyone has made the connection between eating absurd amounts of food and getting car sick.

Despite all these factors, buses are the way to go. As I've already said, they're cheap and I'd say the best way to get you from A to B, unless, of course, you want to splurge on a private taxi. If you're prepared for a rough ride, the ridiculousness of the sights and sounds can become quite enjoyable.

Hellloooo

Nearly two weeks without an entry. Unacceptable. Not that I'm here to make excuses, but there are two reasons for lack of entries: 1) lack of inspiration (no need to worry, I have several good ideas for the next few posts) and 2) the visit of my good friends Dave and Allison.

My residence in Cambodia as well as my persuasive rhetoric convinced Dave, one of my best friends from college, to make the journey to Southeast Asia before starting graduate school this fall (that's right folks, in six short years he will be a Dr. Dawg). For the first week he traveled with his sister through Chiang Mai and Luang Prabang, before meeting up with his girlfriend Allison, to travel through Vietnam and Cambodia.

The duo arrived in Phnom Penh on Tuesday night. On my way to the airport to meet them, in my chariot (otherwise known as Red's tuk-tuk), where I had a most unpleasant, but entertaining experience. It had been raining the whole day - it is in fact the rainy season now - and the road out to the airport was flooded in spots. About halfway to Pochentong, a moto sped by, just as we were crossing an enormous puddle, spraying me with mud, literally from head to toe. Though disgusting, I couldn't help but laugh. It was exactly like in the movies. Anyways, when I got to the airport, I told Dave and Allison that I was so excited to see them that I shat my pants, not too far from the truth.

In the short time they were in Phnom Penh, we had a wonderful time together. Dinner at Khmer Surin, half-priced pastries at Lucky, fruit-tasting and a wander through Orussey Market, feeding the monkeys at Wat Phnom, strolling through Central Market, lunch at Chinese noodles (more on that in a forthcoming entry), dinner at Lim Try Restaurant (more on that in a forthcoming entry too - see I told you I have a lot of ideas...), lunch at Friends The Restaurant, a trip to the National Museum (my first!), Russian Market, dancing at the olympic stadium, and dinner at a random restaurant on our street. Not bad for 2.5 days, especially considering I wasn't with them the whole time.

They left for Siem Reap on Friday morning and I intended to meet them and Shanti, fresh back from the US, there on Saturday afternoon. We had a really nice, very relaxing time in Siem Reap. Relaxing by the pool, reading, delicious Amok dinner, and more relaxing by the pool. It's hard to believe that our string of visitors is going to dry out for about two months. If you want to visit in September or October, just let me know...