In case you hadn't guessed, I like to eat

Dinner tonight was good. At first I was annoyed, but in the end the evening was very nice. We didn’t have dinner at the school, which was totally ok by me, as I'm starting to get tired of eating Chinese food twice a day every day. Anyway, the boss’s family came to take us out to a barbecue/hotpot place. I kind of wanted to do my own thing and just be able to pick a restaurant, but hey, free food. And barbecue and hot pot are really good. The restaurant itself was full of screaming children, in other words, NOT what I want after a day of teaching. Ugh ugh ugh. I was annoyed, but the food was good.

As the place started to empty out a bit and quiet down and I got more food in me, I started to get into a better mood. As we sat around chatting after dinner, telling funny stories and having a good time, it was actually very, very nice. For all the times I feel irked and individualistic in what’s a very collective atmosphere, it was nice to feel like I’m part (some weird, third cousin, twice-removed, in-law part) of a family here.

Also, "We Will Rock You" came on the soundsystem just as the staff finished singing "Happy Birthday" to a table. It was one of those special, random moments.

Tomorrow we pick up our tailored pants! I don’t want to get over excited and wind up disappointed. But I can’t help it, I’m pretty excited. The only problem is I don’t quite know how to find our tailor’s shop. Suong lead us through a warren of aisles, through twists and turns in the Russian Market to pop us out on one side of the market where there are fabric and tailor shops. So, it’s on one of the four sides of the market. No problem.

Driving to work here – sorry, getting driven to work here – always starts a hypothetical conversation in my head. I see the broken sidewalks and trash collectors pulling their individual carts, the heaping mountains of garbage on the side of the road, the corrugated iron and wooden lean to’s built against the outer walls of schoolyards and temples, and it makes me wish every person in America who says, ‘Get rid of the government/welfare/etc.’ could see this. Yeah, screw welfare! Poor families should populate the streets, living in dirt and rubbish, selling chickens and goslings and turkeys and other birds from cages barely big enough for one animal, living in a shack the size of a double bed. Screw medicare and social security, 80-year-olds should pull heavy ox-carts collecting trash or recyclables, or carry heavy baskets of fruit and noodles to peddle on the street. Screw taxes, who needs street signs and stop lights and lane lines and traffic cops and not-broken pavement to drive on? Who needs the government to construct public spaces? Leave it to the private contractors, who use cheap labor and cover a riverfront promenade with a wobbly-tiled walk, where the tiles are simply set next to each other in plain dirt. Bah. Stupid prats.

I’ve been  living in a hotel for a month now… and it’s starting to get vaguely creepy. The staff here know us well of course, but they’re so happy when they greet us in the morning it’s almost unnerving. I don’t want to say they’re sycophantic, but it’s somewhere approaching that. That or they smile so widely and genuinely that they all seem to be in on some joke. Or they’re all on drugs at 8am. Not sure. Still, they’re friendly so… that’s good.

Ok, I promise I'm working on my second entry on Laos. No really, I'm going to go write it right now.

I am playing a ukulele now

I took this video at work. While it's literally what I did today, it also is the perfect metaphor for how my life here feels. 

I... don't really know what's going on around me. I'll just sit here and play The Clash on this ukulele.

And you may find yourself in another part of the world: Laos Pt. I

It’s easier to cruise through my pictures from the week than actually write about it. And it’s easier to stare at an empty text box than actually edit my pictures and post them online.

But I suppose I have to start somewhere.

So I’ll start at the beginning:

I flew into Vientiane Monday evening and was met at the airport by Hudson, my friend’s parents’ intern, who was kind enough to pick me up from the airport and (literally) pick up a case of BeerLao on the way home.

Wait, this is boring. Let me tell you the highlights: Checking out the slow, quaint pace of Vientiane. Rock Climbing in Vang Vieng. Epic street party waterfight in Luang Prabang. There, that’s what you have to look forward to and what I have to look back on.

I loved Vientiane. Lots of people said they found it boring or sketchy, but I found it quiet and charming, which was the perfect antidote to Phnom Penh. I really only spent one day sightseeing there, but fortunately that was enough. I would have been happy to spend a lazy week there, sleeping in late and enjoying french cafes and riverside restaurants, but I not knowing when (or if) I’ll make it back to Laos, Luang Prabang beckoned.

Unfortunately, flights were a little expensive ($110 each way) and all the overnight busses were sold out. I didn’t want to lose a whole day traveling on a bus, so I made a snap decision to go to Vang Vieng, a midway point, and try and catch a bus from there the next day. I’d been told it was a quaint city with gorgeous surroundings, despite being packed with hard-partying tourists. It was all of the above. I had a hard time finding a place to eat that wasn’t blasting Family Guy or Friends on a big TV and that wasn’t also full of drunk/stoned westerners. I ended up eating over by the river, taking a walk around town, and sitting in another quiet riverside bar before turning in early. For the next day, I went ROCK CLIMBING. Hell yes.

My bus to LP was at 2pm, so I headed out for just a half day of climbing with one of the local outfitters. Since almost every tourist in Laos was in Luang Prabang already and almost all the tourists in Vang Vieng were sleeping off their hangovers at 9:30am, there were a total of 7 people at the limestone crags where we were climbing. It was absolutely awesome. I love climbing anyway and outdoor climbing is always a blast, but I can’t begin to express how much fun it was. Inner tubing on the Mekong is the backpacker rite of passage in Vang Vieng, but I’m so glad I skipped that in favor of scaling some routes up the limestone.

The climbs were really good and being up high always gives me a thrill thanks to my acrophobia, but probably the scariest part of the trip was the motorcycle ride from the road to the climbing. We left the road to go down a rocky little dirt path, then across a rickety bamboo bridge, across some fields, and finally through some jungle. On the way back, I heard a cell phone ringing and saw my guide look down and start fumbling in his pocket as we were dodging trees in the forest. Please don’t answer that, I thought, as I snatched a spiderweb off my face. Fortunately, we hit the fields again just as he picked it up, the caller warning us of the water fight already taking off in Vang Vieng.

A word on the New Years waterfights: It’s about 37˚C outside (or 98˚F), which is really Way Too Hot. A waterfight sounds like about the best thing in the world. Thankfully, the buddhist new year involves pouring water on people to wash away the sins of last year and bless them for the coming year. Thank god (or, rather thank Buddha), otherwise I might have ended up with heatstroke sometime during the week. In Thailand it’s known for being a pretty epic affair, with Laos apparently celebrating in a slightly more reserved manner. Well, not from what I saw, particularly in Luang Prabang. I got hit first by some Aussies outside a hotel in Vientiane, but things didn’t really get serious until I was on the motorcycle coming back from climbing. The thing that amazed me most was that, despite being hosed down or sprayed with a water gun or doused by the bucketfull, most people just rode on past without reacting. Interesting. I have to say my favorites, though, were the little boys on the back of their mother’s scooters going around town doing drive-bys.

Anyway, rock climbing awesomeness accomplished, I caught my bus to Luang Prabang. Six head-rattling hours in the back of a van later, we were in the old capital. (Vientiane became the capital in 1563, but Luang Prabang remained the royal and religious capital.) While I felt like I almost came away from the van ride with a concussion, I did actually come away with some traveling companions for the next few days: an Aussie guy, an Aussie gal, and an Algerian guy.

Part II to follow soon, I promise!

Imminent Khmer New Year

It's still not any cooler here (30˚C this morning, 33˚ now), but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. April is the hottest month of the year here, and in May the rains come. It doesn't really get any cooler, but that's when the rains come. From what I remember from my trip here last September I have knee-deep flooded streets to look forward to, thanks to the lack of storm drainage. I guess it's better than muddy, impassable country roads...

I just stepped from the office into the kitchen to get some water (a difference of about 10˚C), and I can smell meat, barbecuing for our lunch. Mmm. A note on what I've been eating here: mostly Chinese food. Nothing too exciting, sorry to disappoint you. As we're still staying at the hotel (our rooms at the school are still being renovated) we have breakfast there (toast, fruit, and an array of oily Chinese food in warming trays) which is not amazing, but it's free and requires no effort. Lunch and dinner we have at the school, which is cooked by the family that lives upstairs. Since the boss's family is Chinese and a couple of teachers at the school here are Taiwanese, we usually have some Chinese and Khmer dishes over rice. And soup. There is always soup. Soup isn't my favorite thing to begin with, but it's just about the last thing I want in 30˚ weather. I eat it once in awhile, and I have to say I liked the Khmer pumpkin soup and the lotus soup quite a lot, although bitter melon is definitely not to my taste. I do want to get out and explore the local street food more, though.

I'm slowly learning Khmer, but I'm having trouble remembering what I've learned. I just learned today how to say "tiny banana"... but now all I can remember is that it sounds like "eggs" in Chinese, which I don't know either. Not helpful! The stuff that sticks the best is the stuff you'd say to a three-year-old -- in this case, the three-year-old daughter of the family. Things like "let's eat!", "come out!" and the numbers 1-10. Occasionally the woman who cooks for us tries to teach us a few words or a little phrase (i.e. tiny bananas). At times I’m inclined to think that unspoken cues are universal, but then I remember that almost everyone nods and smiles when they don’t understand what you’re saying. So when we think we’re learning “I want eggs” we’re probably learning how to say “barbecued pork sauce” or something. I really need to learn more, so that I can get around easier and eat more interesting things (a.k.a. explore the food stalls at the market).

It's a slow Saturday here at the school. Saturday and Sunday are usually our busiest days, but next week is Khmer New Year so a lot of families have already left for vacation. Phnom Penh apparently empties out and shuts down as everyone goes home to the provinces, so I'm taking off too. If there were going to be a lot of events in town I might stay, but this is also the only vacation I'm going to have for awhile, especially since I work six days a week. Since I have a whole week, I decided to visit neighboring Laos, the quiet little country just to the north. I've never been and I've heard only good things about it, so why not visit the capital city when it transforms from sleepy town to chaotic New Years crazy city? That part of it wasn't planned, but I should have figured that Lao New Year is probably when Khmer New Year is.

It feels strange and out of place to say "Happy New Year" in April and when it's so hot outside, but it's kind of fun that people here are already wishing it to each other, even among the non-Cambodian families at the school. But what seemed truly out of place was the Charlie Brown-esque Christmas tree in the background of a Khmer New Year TV program I saw. It looked like this, but with white paint flecks all over it:

Take that image and then stuff it onto a lovely TV set, with scores of singers and dancers dressed in silk, dancing traditional dances and singing traditional Khmer songs to celebrate the new year.

One last note, about the traffic in town. It's nuts. Lane's aren't a suggestion, they just don't exist. Although generally traffic stays to the right, driving is accepted on either side of the street, and makes for an interesting thrill when your driver suddenly turns directly into oncoming traffic. Regardless, it's quite easy to drive here. When she drove us to the bank this week, we asked our accountant how long it takes to get a driver's license here. Her reply was, "No need. Just pay." "Pay for what? A license?" "No, just pay if police stop." See? Easy! For a good description (and picture) of the traffic, click here and scroll down to the entry "11 September 2006 -- Traffic Law". (From my own experience, it seems like the law had absolutely no effect.)

One and a half more days of classes and then I'm off on vacation!

A Giant Among Asians: Shopping in Phnom Penh

My little weather widget on Chrome tells me it's 33˚C ("Feels like 34˚") outside -- or about 93˚F, so I'm staying seated in the air conditioned office and telling you about shopping on our day off (Monday).

Phnom Penh (well, Asia, in general) is a shoppers paradise or hell, depending on how you feel about shopping and what size you are. If you love shopping and you're small, it's a paradise. If you hate shopping at home, you'll be overwhelmed and want to stab your eyes out at the prospect of endless hunting and haggling. If you're my size, don't worry about spending too much money, you'll never find anything that fits you anyway.

You can hit the upscale mall, the warrens of teeny shops in the trendy malls, or the stands under the hot iron roof at the seemingly endless Central Market. It’s fantastic – again, if you’re of a petite “Asian” size. After a full day of shopping I succeeded in buying only two tops and a pair of trousers, both fairly loose and light. I failed, however, to find a single pair of shoes that fit (usually only sizes up to 39 or 40 are stocked, I wear a 42) or anything resembling trousers I’d actually want to wear outside of temples in Southeast Asia. After the boss's daughter told me that I can get trousers made for $3 plus the cost of material, though, I felt better. I may finally have my dream of an (almost) entirely fitted wardrobe come true.

It’s not just that clothes are too skinny, because I can sometimes even squeeze into the skinniness of a piece, but everything is just proportioned wrong. Shoulders are too narrow, the waist always falls too high... What should be a dress on most is a slightly long shirt on me. And forget about it fitting over my boobs.

In the course of our shopping and eating of lunch and snacks we were discussing the price of things here. Things seem to be either dirt cheap (e.g. street food or awful clothes we don’t want to buy) or kind of expensive (by comparison). My theory (which belongs to me*) is that it’s because there’s no real middle class here, so things either have to be cheap enough for the poorest of folk, or they cater to people like our boss and his family, whose teenage daughter gets an allowance of $300 EVERY WEEK. Seriously. I don’t spend that much in a month living at home in the states. Ok, maybe I do, but still, this is Cambodia and that’s a crazy allowance. So after our $7 all you can eat Shabu Shabu and Sushi Buffet for lunch, we three split two 5,000 riel ($1.25) sandwiches for dinner. It’s sort of weird, treading the line between the bubbles of upper class Cambodians, Ex-pats, and average local life.

*Monty Python reference

I ate pizza for dinner Saturday night

We went to The Pizza Company Saturday night for dinner, a big chain in a mall, and had pizza and some other Italian food. The "Cambodian Spaghetti" surprised me in two ways. First, I was impressed at how well the spaghetti was cooked, considering it had been pan friend in a wok. Second, there was a chili stuck to the underside of a large piece of pancetta, which I unwittingly ate. The pizza itself was pretty good, once I realized that it wasn't still oven-hot (that was the chili). We had Thom Yum pizza (yes, like the soup) with limes to squeeze on top, and a pork/pineapple/hot dog pizza, with a cheesy hot dog baked into the crust. Definitely unusual, but not something I think would be too beyond the imagination of CPK.

Sometimes I feel like I work at a music factory. Sorry, that seems to imply that working conditions are bad, which they're not. But I sit in an office, and sometimes in a room with a piano, and little projects -- I mean students -- filter in and out, in and out, coming away with slight improvements each time. There's pretty much always classical music being played somewhere, and every time I walk up or down the stairs I feel like I'm in a Cambodian version of Billy Elliot. Or something.

It's sort of weird having a work schedule that basically consists of a bunch of scheduled appointments. Somehow it feels different from my other teaching gigs.

Mosquitoes are a fact of life here, which I'm going to have to just accept. I've been wearing long pants exclusively this week, and as a result I only have 7 bites on my left foot and 11 on my right. I spend most of my time in an air conditioned office, mind you, but apparently my time in the semi-enclosed kitchen and second floor are enough to garner me an attack. I'm wearing leggings and a skirt today, but I've already been bitten three times through my leggings, so I can tell you exactly how much longer this is going to last. Best get myself to the market tomorrow and buy some more pants. The upside to working in air conditioning is that it makes it actually comfortable to wear pants.