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...

­­Election Monitoring in Kampong Speu

This past Sunday marked Cambodia’s fourth parliamentary elections since the UN came to Cambodia in the early ‘90s. As an interested observer in Cambodian politics since I arrived, I registered to be a local election monitor with COMFREL, the Committee for Free and Fair Elections in Cambodia. Some 10,000 monitors were fielded for Cambodia’s 15,000 polling stations, with a majority of them coming from COMFREL. Most observers were either Cambodian or foreign observers sponsored by foreign governments.

When I registered to monitor, COMFREL asked me where in Cambodia I wanted to go. I responded by saying that I would be happy to go anywhere outside of Phnom Penh that was “interesting.” They stuck me in Kampong Speu, one of Cambodia’s poorest provinces, about 50km southwest of Phnom Penh, and representing six of Cambodia’s 123 seats at parliament.

I took a minibus down to Kampong Speu on Saturday morning and planned to stay with my friend Matt, who is based in “The Speu” with the World Food Programme. Matt had two other friends coming to the Speu to monitor for the Australian government. This ended up being quite a blessing, as we were able to explore a bit on Saturday in an Australian government Land Cruiser. We went through Chbar Mon District which encompasses Kampong Speu town, to Kong Pisey, driving over back roads by pagodas and through villages. It was a great way to get an introduction to the province we would be traversing as election monitors the next day.

Early on Sunday morning I met my translator, Virak, outside of Matt’s house and we set off. Our first stop was a primary school in Kampong Speu town. We arrived about a half hour before the polls were to open to conduct a number of checks. I walked around the outside of the polling station and immediately observed a police officer and a military police official in uniform, a possible attempt to intimidate voters.

When I entered the polling station, it was set up exactly as in the UN-developed video I was shown at my COMFREL training. There were a number of political party observers and about half a dozen election officials. There were tables for the polling station chief, for checking people in, issuing ballots, polling booths, the ballot box, and dipping voters’ fingers into indelible ink. The empty ballot box was shown to the observers and sealed and a number of other checks were made prior to opening the polling station.

At precisely 7:00am, the polling station opened to the crowd that had already gathered. People filed in an orderly manner, one at a time. They showed their identification card and voter information sheet to an election official before being issued a ballot. They then voted in a polling booth – a table with a three-sided metal screen creating some privacy. After a vote was cast for one of the eleven parties, the voter showed the official seal on the ballot and stuffed it into the ballot box. Next, they reluctantly stuck their fingers in a container of indelible ink, which left their fingers looking purple (and would continue to leave them purple for a week).

Eager to see something a bit more rural, we left the primary school and made a quick stop for some noodles for breakfast. At breakfast we met COMFREL’s provincial coordinator, the woman in charge of monitoring the elections throughout the province. Though she couldn’t speak English very well, she insisted that Virak and I join her for the day. So after breakfast we headed north to Somrong Raung District where there were reports of election officials refusing an election monitor entry to the polling station. Once we got there, however, the monitor had been let in and everything was running smoothly.

From Somrong Raung District, we headed about 40km southwest to the quite rural Phnom Srouch District. It was evident there was a fairly serious problem at the first polling station we visited. Outside each polling station is a list of names of voters who are supposed to vote at that polling station. Outside this first polling station were several dozen voters scouring the list trying to find their names unsuccessfully. A circle formed around us as voters voiced their complaints. They were clearly upset that, despite having all necessary information and having voted at the same location the year before for commune elections, they were unable to cast a ballot. We took down their information and set off for other polling stations in the district.

At each station we went to the story was the same. There were numerous voters unable to cast their ballot because their name was not on the list outside the station. People estimated that as many as 4,000 voters’ names were missing in Phnom Srouch District alone - probably a mix of village chiefs intentionally eliminating names of those associated with the opposition and the National Election Committee attempting to clean up the rolls by removing ghost voters and duplicates (though I assume that it is more of the former). At about the same time, I got a text message from COMFREL in Phnom Penh warning us that missing names was a problem countrywide, particularly in Phnom Penh. Though we helped voters fill out complaint forms, it is unlikely that they had an affect; the ruling party has a total stranglehold on the country’s political system, controlling the private sector, the media, and the entire political system, top to bottom (including the national, provincial, and commune level election committees which review complaints).

It was getting late so we headed back toward Kampong Speu town. A few kilometers outside town we stopped at a polling station to watch the station be closed down. After the morning rush, most polling stations were pretty quiet and only one voter came through in the last half hour the station was open. The closing of the polling station took quite some time – sealing the ballot box, counting the number of ballots cast, and so on. I watched the counting for about forty-five minutes before heading back to Matt’s house to catch a ride in the Land Cruiser back to Phnom Penh.

On Monday morning when initial results were reported, there weren’t any surprises. The ruling party claimed an overwhelming majority of seats (between 88 and 91 of 123, up from 73). Though the opposition has claimed that 200,000 people were unable to vote in Phnom Penh alone, international observers put the estimate at closer to 50,000 nationwide; a high number to be sure, but not nearly high enough to impact the outcome. The election was widely viewed as free and although perhaps not fair, an improvement over previous elections in terms of electioneering.

Carole King’s Jazz Café

For Justin and Ashley’s last night in town, we decided to go out with a bang. After a nice dinner at a Nepalese restaurant, we headed to Carole King’s Jazz Café. Yes, I said that right. Carole King, the songwriter and folk singer and jazz café. The two have next to nothing in common. Even more amusing, however, is that Carole King’s Jazz Café is not, in fact, a jazz café, but a karaoke joint.

We walked in to the karaoke bar and were immediately greeted by Cho, the Korean owner, with a business card. He rearranged tables for the seven of us and we took in our surroundings. The place was small and cozy with Christmas and stage lights. The walls were adorned with an extremely random assortment of pictures, from scenes of Europe and Southeast Asia to the Mona Lisa. Save us, the clientele was entirely Korean businessmen.

We let the Koreans, including Cho, take the first few songs, which were sung in both Korean and English, as we perused the extensive selection of songs. Andrew, Shanti’s co-leader for the trip of American high school students to Cambodia, started us off. A former a cappella singer in college, he could bust it out and he did with his selection of the ballad “On the Wings of Love”. The fifteen people in Carole King’s loved it. Immediately after the completion of the song, Andrew was greeted by a hat full of money – some Korean, some Cambodian – and a round of beer from the Korean contingent.

Over the next two and a half hours, we belted out hits like “Don’t Stop Believin,’” “Livin’ on a Prayer,” “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and “Red Wine.” It was incredibly fun, but the best was yet to come. As the Korean contingent shuffled out, the lone woman in the group stopped in front of Andrew, who continued to impress with his singing throughout the evening. “You’re a very good singer,” she said, and then whispered in Andrew’s ear. Over and over she said something to the group and then whispered in Andrew’s ear. It was not until later that we found out that whatever the woman said to the group, she repeated into Andrew’s ear in a more seductive voice.

Wiped out, we called for the bill. As it came, Cho, who was now our very good friend, shuffled over and took a look. He looked at Savin, Ashley, and Shanti and said “My friends [the Korean clientele] think American girls…” and then he paused as if he was about to sneeze and it all came out at once: “VERY SEXY! WOW! VERY SEXY!” Cho looked at the bill, which was $19.50. Again, it looked as if he was about to sneeze: “$15! SEXY LADIES: $15! NO SEXY LADIES: $20!” For those of you following along at home, Cho would have raised the price if we weren’t accompanied by sexy ladies.

As we departed, Cho walked us outside and gave each of us a handshake, and then the hugs started. He gave Justin a big bear hug, saying “I rrrove you! I rrrove you forever!” Now, I hate to be stereotypical, but there was no “l” when he said love. In fact, the whole experience felt like a stereotypical Korean karaoke experience in all the best ways. We will definitely be going back, but we’ll have to round up the sexy ladies first.

Pyongyang

Fresh off a relaxing weekend in Koh Kong, I needed a jolt to get myself back in the mindset of a much nuttier Phnom Penh. What better way than a trip to Pyongyang? I know what you’re thinking, Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, doesn’t exactly sound like an ideal destination and I would probably agree with you. Pyongyang, the restaurant, however, guaranteed an entertaining evening at the very least.

Cambodia’s ruling party has cordial to warm ties with North Korea. The reclusive country has a beautiful French colonial villa in the heart of Phnom Penh as its embassy and since my arrival in Cambodia a year ago, Phnom Penh has been visited by the North Korean premier Kim Yong-Il (no relation to Kim Jong-Il), during which time the streets of Cambodia were lined with North Korean flags.

North Korea’s presence in Cambodia goes beyond its embassy and official state visits, though. The government owns and operates two restaurants in Cambodia, one in Phnom Penh and one in Siem Reap, supposedly the only two in the world. It is rumored that everything – the food, the décor, the waitresses – is imported from North Korea. rumored to be the only two of their kind in the world. Again, I used Justin and Ashley’s visit as an excuse for an excursion sure to border on the bizarre.

Pyongyang (the restaurant) appears no different from a popular Khmer restaurant on the outside – expensive cars parked outside, neon lights, and so on. In fact, I had passed the restaurant on numerous occasions without knowing its story. Entering it, however, was stepping into another world. We were warmly greeted by blinding fluorescent light and coolly greeted by a North Korean woman in traditional dress and showed to a table to take in our surroundings.

As we surveyed the restaurant, we noticed about a half dozen other westerners and at least one hundred Korean tourists. There was a small stage at the front of the restaurant with a flat screen TV showing a loop of nature-related scenes, presumably from North Korea. The walls were lined with paintings similar to the images on the television, only more fantastical. Shortly after we sat down, two men in what I'm assuming is traditional North Korean dress - a very baggy, faded brown wool suit - sat at a neighboring table. After a quick drink, the men disappeared to a back room, probably to engage in the illicit activities the restaurant is rumored to profit from (drug smuggling, money laundering, etc).

Perusing the menu, we decided on an order of kim chi (a Korean classic), a duck dish (ironically on a hot plate shaped like a cow), a beef dish, and of course, a few beers. The kim chi arrived almost instantaneously with peanuts and something not dissimilar to tempura. When the main dishes arrived and we failed to follow our waitress’ gesturing, we were given a cold look that, in my imagination, summed up North Korean sentiments to Americans.

Once our surprisingly good food was finished, the real fun began. A handful of the waitresses swooshed to the stage in their bright uniforms. One turned on a keyboard, while another picked up a mic and started singing in an opera-like voice, while others still began to dance (with nature scenes continuing to play on the television). The entire crowd seemed to be snapping pictures, save a group of teenage boys next to us who were dressed in a most curious way (my personal favorite was the guy with a buzz cut, blue batman hoodie, and white plastic aviator-shaped sunglasses). Immediately bored with the performance, they took out a handheld gaming device.

The dance performance was followed by a raucous violin performance, a drum and dance performance, and another dance with singing. It took a few performances for us to realize it, but about halfway through we determined that the entire show was a fake. The violin – not performed live. The singing – lip-synching. The drum – barely used. The dancing was the only thing that could not have been staged. As soon as the show was over, all of the Korean tourists made a beeline for the door. It was bizarre on all accounts, but certainly worth the visit.

Koh Kong

With Justin and Ashley in town, I took a day off work to spend a long weekend with them in Koh Kong, one of the few provinces I had not yet visited. Koh Kong is Cambodia's southwestern-most province. To the west lies Thailand, to the north the largely pristine and uninhabited Cardamom Mountains, and to the south the Gulf of Thailand and a number of tropical islands. To get to Koh Kong, it is necessary to cross four large rivers, which, until very recently, were only passable by ferry. With bridges over each of the crossings complete, travel time to Koh Kong was cut in half. Thus, this was the perfect time to go - it is now relatively accessible and Thailand's former Prime Minister Shinawatra has yet to invest the several billion dollars that he hopes to develop the province.

So it was in this context that we departed for Koh Kong, practically to Thailand, on Friday morning. For the first half of the journey, we were on National Route 4, the same road that goes to Sihanoukville. Once we arrived at Sre Ambel, however, we turned west. After passing through the outskirts of Sre Ambel, the scenery changed dramatically. The terrain was no longer flat and we were surrounded by lush, green, pristine forest and jungle. I hadn't been anywhere else in Cambodia so devoid of human presence. With each small but steep hill the bus slowly summitted, green jungle stretched for miles without any sign of villages or farmland.

About four and a half hours after leaving Phnom Penh, we arrived at the fourth river crossing in the village of Tatai, our launching point to Rainbow Lodge. Upon the recommendation of a few friends, we made a booking at the eco-lodge about twenty kilometers from the town of Koh Kong, which, like many border towns, has a rather unseemly reputation. After crossing the bridge on foot, we tracked down a green and blue wooden boat - our transportation to the lodge.

After a nice twenty minute cruise down the crystal clear river, we noticed a number of bungalows with thatch roofs sticking out above the forest. Shortly thereafter, we docked and climbed up a narrow dirt path to the restaurant and sitting area. There, we were given a welcome by the British owner Janet, whom we came to enjoy like a slightly crazy aunt. Justin put it well when he described Janet as someone that unexpectedly received houseguests - she frantically scampered about cooking meals and making other arrangements and was extremely apologetic for any and every shortcoming she could possibly imagine (that the lodge was at capacity for the first time, that our bungalow had a mosquito problem, that they were out of ham, etc.) She told us how we shower in river water, that electricity is provided by solar energy during the day, and that for $0.50 a day we could have as much water as we liked provided we didn't discard our plastic bottle.

Immediately relaxed, we sat around snacking, playing cards and enjoying the sounds of nature that do not exist in Phnom Penh. By late afternoon we worked up enough of a sweat playing cards to jump in the river. The water was incredibly clear; so clear that if the bottom was covered with sand instead of mud and rocks, I think it would have been like swimming in the Caribbean. After wearing ourselves out, we returned to the sitting area for more cards and a healthy dose of red wine.

Though the dinner was slow - an hour between the end of the main course and dessert - it was delicious: onion soup, an Indonesian lemongrass pork dish, and chocolate and banana crepes. Between the food and the wine we crashed hard pretty early.

We woke to a beautiful sunrise and, over breakfast, decided to take a boat trip to a nearby waterfall. More cards sustained us until we left the lodge in late morning. The sun was blaring during the half hour boat ride, which dropped us off at a gorgeous cascading waterfall. Setting our things down, we scampered over extremely slippery rocks, through the bushes, and swam upriver a bit to reach the base of the waterfall, which we then climbed. Though a workout, the setting was entirely laid back and once we reached the top, we were rewarded with cool pools and underwater "armchairs."

Scampering back down the waterfall, we had a lot of fun letting the current take us back to our things and a picnic lunch. In fact, we enjoyed it so much, we scampered over the rocks a few more times just to be taken downriver again. We spent the afternoon swimming, climbing on the rocks in the middle of the river and playing childish "king of the mountain" type games. It was delightful.

We returned to the lodge in late afternoon to read and play cards before the BBQ dinner that was planned. Again, dinner came about a bit slowly (and certainly wasn't helped by the large and unexplained boom we heard from the kitchen during preparations), but the grilled pork, prawns, rice salad, were delicious. Again we crashed hard with bellies full of delicious food and wine.

On Sunday morning we woke and, unfortunately, had to leave. It was a great, relaxing weekend though, and incredibly well-priced. Lodging and food for two days as well as the boat trip came out to just over $40 per person. I will definitely consider returning.

Bizarro Bowling

About two months ago, I heard something that changed my life. Phnom Penh has a real, ten-pin bowling alley. As a formerly avid recreational bowler – I was a keen student of Bowl America, Bethesda Naval Lanes, as well as various duckpin bowling centers – I was ecstatic. The opportunity for me to actually go, however, did not arise until my friend Justin, an equally avid bowler, arrived from the US for a two week visit.

Having given him and Ashley a taste of Cambodian culture after the Embassy ordeal – markets, tuk tuk rides, Khmer food (off the street and from quality restaurants) – I felt a brief return to American culture in Cambodia appropriate. I called Red, our amazing tuk tuk driver; he’s one of the few who speaks English well, knows exactly where he’s going and won’t try to gouge you on price. When he arrived, I asked him to take us to Parkway, where the bowling alley was located. He, of course, knew its precise location even though I could only offer a vague idea of where I thought it was.

As he dropped us off, we were confronted by a building of several stories which looked, more or less, like a shopping mall. On the ground floor we passed a very out of place health club, which had a decent looking swimming pool. Things only got stranger and sketchier from there. Even though it was relatively early on a Wednesday night, there was no one around. We wandered past empty shops selling stylish clothing following poorly placed signs in the direction of the bowling alley and other entertainment. We climbed two sets of empty staircases past an oddly contrived garden scene with plastic deer and other animals, before passing a room full of billiards tables and an empty dining area.

Finally, we came to the empty bowling alley. It was, I must admit, a very nice looking alley of about ten lanes. Though I couldn’t figure out what was going through the designer’s head when they put it on the third floor. How terrible it must have been working in the shops below as westerners and Phnom Penh’s elite took to the lanes.

We picked out shoes for $1 a pair, with mine being the only ones that looked remotely like bowling shoes; throughout the night we came up with various analogies to describe Justin’s white shoes, from ballet shoes, to Saturday Night Fever shoes, to boxing shoes, to who knows what else. Settling down on our computerized lane (I might say that it was the same computer system with the same animation schemes as Bethesda Naval) and attended to by half a dozen bored staff, we ordered a few beers and the fun began.

None of us bowled well the first game; we couldn’t remember the last time we’d been at a ten-pin lane. We were thoroughly entertained by the echo chamber the bowling alley appeared to be in – bowling balls hitting the lane or exploding across the pins made defeaning noise. About halfway through the second game, which was going much better for all of us (I ended up with a very respectable 173), a group of Cambodian men arrived to roll a few lanes over. They were clearly at home here and looked like decent bowlers even if they were using light balls. Their bowling mannerisms, especially a particularly chubby bowler, provided entertainment beyond the game itself.

Following one and a half hours of bowling and with a few beers in our bellies, we went in search of food. The bowling alley’s canteen didn’t offer anything besides pre-packaged snacks and the sketchy Parkway’s stores were all shuttered. We opted to make the evening more American still and headed into the empty Lucky Burger, a not-so-fast food burger joint. We were enthusiastically greeted by the staff and ordered, you guessed it, happy meals. To be honest, they were surprisingly satisfying. But not nearly as satisfying as three games of bowling and the knowledge that I was able to do so in Phnom Penh.