The Cambodian Pajama Pants Dance

I've been in Cambodia for more than a year and a half now and, until yesterday I did not yet own Cambodian pajamas. Cambodian pajamas are thin and soft cotton garments in obscenely bright colors (neon yellow and orange come to mind) and seemingly out of place cartoon patterns. The pajamas often come in a set of pants or shorts and a long-sleeve or short-sleeve shirt and are worn throughout the day. They are particularly popular with women shopping in the local markets or just out and about around their neighborhood although they are most entertaining (and perhaps endearing) on young children. I've often admired the pajamas from afar and nearly as often remarked that it would be fun to have a Cambodian pajama party.

Yet I never acted upon my not-so-secret desires to join the Cambodians unknowingly already at their own pajama party. Yesterday though, Shanti and I were at the overwhelming and maze-like Olympic market fabric shopping. Shanti mentioned that we should, after all this time, get some Cambodian pajamas. I was immediately distracted from looking for material to make dress shirts. We hunted across the sprawling second floor until we found a few pajama vendors.

Not really wanting an entire set (it's just too damn hot), I waded through a pile of pajama shorts, finally coming to the perfect pair. Blinding neon yellow and with a cartoon hippopotamus theme, the shorts are emblazoned with the word HIPPOPOTAMUS over and over as well as short statements like "Hippy Boy Club" and "Is My Life My Funny Day" and cartoons of hippos swimming, snorkeling, picking mushrooms, and the odd jack-o-lantern. In short, they bring me to a sunny disposition not entirely dissimilar from their coloring and cartoon pattern.

Naturally, I tried them on as soon as I came home. I'm not sure if the happiness the shorts brought me - and the resulting frolicking - was more entertaining to me or Shanti. Later in the evening I was still sporting my stylish new threads. With a cool breeze blowing from our terrace and into the apartment, we went outside to enjoy it. Or I should say that Shanti went outside and I danced out as gaily as I have danced in recent memory. The breeze was quite refreshing. The call of "Hello" from our neighbor across the street and her commentary on my dancing skills, less so. Much to her entertainment and my embarrassment, she caught my whole jig. Shanti, of course, enjoyed my embarrassment almost as much as my dancing.