Chinese New Year

Dear Friends, Family and other notable companions on this journey through Life.

Another brief note on the ways of Phnom Penh and in turn, Cambodia. I continue to marvel at the ways of drivers both foreign and domestic in this capital city of Cambodia.

The traffic, which I have always found to be similar to rush hour in downtown Chicago with a fraction of Chicago’s population, has shown me the Ying and Yang of traffic influences. First, the Ying. On Chinese New year (February 6-7-8) a cannon shot down the main thoroughfares would certainly have hit someone, probably a Barang, but it would have an equal chance of hurtling a long distance before it did find its mark. The city was absolutely churchlike in its silence and respect for the holiday. The huge public markets were for the most part closed, which doesn’t occur at other times of the year in my impression. I will defer further judgment on a similar happening until the Khmer New Year which is April 13-14-15. In my research I have discovered that it is estimated that 80% of the Cambodian people are linked somehow to the Chinese. This is either being of full Chinese lineage or a large percentage of their ancestry. They all claim to be Cambodian but whether they are Khmer is speculative. The semantics on this whole topic area arguable since to be Cambodian is to be Khmer, but to be Chinese is to be culturally significant.

So, here I was, not exactly celebrating the New Year, but thoroughly enjoying the quiet, the run of the streets on my moto, and the general calm that existed throughout. Unlike the frenzy of the International New Year, which exists here as well as in the States or at least the major cities, this was celebrated with stores closing, people going to pagodas or “pak odahs” as it is pronounced locally, and a few firework displays. I could drive down Noradom, and Monivong, and Mao Tse Tung and only have a few motos and cars for company. I could travel one end of the city to another and the traffic lights would either only be blinking or all green, or off and no confusion or problems at any intersections. The more serious traffic would be on the side street intersections where the random crisscross of traffic would have the car and/or motos come across each other in a surprise occurrence that rarely would be serious since everyone for the most part has learned, (yours truly, included) to be cautious at any crossing. The use of the omnipresent horn is for this circumstance.

Now for the yang. This week I have been afflicted with the bane of the tropics, intestinal issues, or in more common layman’s language, chronic diarrhea. It manifests in the usual format but also carries the added burden of flu like symptoms, that is, head ache, severe fatigue, and the added cross of never wanting to be very far from a toilet. I managed for a day or two and then went to our company doctor and she prescribed – no work for three days, serious antibiotics (flagyl and cipro) and lots of fluids. Today is the last of the three days off of work and I will be glad to go back.

But not to digress too much, I did go out for meals starting yesterday to get a change from the soup and sandwiches I was eating, again according to doctor’s orders to eat something – anything, to assist the pills I was taking. I made the mistake of leaving my house about 5 Pm and after chatting for a few minutes with my landlady, I drove off on Street 63 toward the complex of restaurants and shops in NGO Land that my part of town is known by. Street 63 as I may have mentioned earlier is a quiet, tree lined, very small town-like, French colonial residential street that is a pleasure to look at and walk down. Yesterday however I was amazed at the sheer volume of traffic. It would have been easier to walk than to try and drive anything even a bicycle. And at certain intersections it was absolutely gridlocked. I turned off beautiful Street 63 because I thought it was a local condition, but every street I tried was the same. Finally I got to the little vegetarian roof top restaurant I have discovered which gives me a nice view of the main drag of Sihanouk and Norodom and it was like watching a circus and a grand parade and a political convention all rolled into one. My analogy of the river still holds true for traffic but this river was turgid, and choked with fallen trees and at full flood stage. Traffic moved, but ponderously, and with very little incentive. This lasted for a good half an hour or so and when I left, it was better but still full of all sorts of vehicles and traffic. I have to add trucks to the mix at this point. I don’t think I have mentioned them previously because I never really noticed them before. But now they create an even greater influence because none of the traffic wants to be behind them and no one wants to give way and everybody is reluctant to challenge them too severely. So you have a continual series of “chicken” being played, with the trucks inevitably winning and moving along like dinosaurs heading for their last round-up. That’s the ying and yang of traffic in Phnom Penh.

These months are good for lots of plant life in Cambodia, but since I am such a city guy I can only speak directly to what I see outside my apartment or from my balcony. In my courtyard there is a mango tree, which I can reach from my balcony. Across the little street is a palm tree with coconuts growing on it. Down the street is another mango tree. I have attached photos in what I hope will become a more visual experience in my future newsletters since I am afraid you will be bored with incessant descriptions of traffic, personal life, Yatta, Yatta, Yatta. The mangos are becoming bigger and riper each day and soon I will be able to just pluck one and add a sour shrimp paste or whatever goes with mangos (raw is good) and have a treat. The coconuts I will leave to whoever likes coconut milk (I don’t) and the meat, which is good for Amok, which is Khmer for many dishes, made with this liquid (which I do like). When I first arrived in Cambodia and heard about this type of cuisine I though it was an adjective for the state of life, but I soon changed my opinion.

Next week I am on my own in the office because my office mates are all off to Bangkok to present a paper on Bilingual education. They are truly saddened that I am not going since I helped a lot in preparing the paper but VSO is undergoing dramatic budget cutbacks and I was not authorized. If I had thought more about it I should have just gone ahead and joined them anyway. Next time. When they return however, they and I will head out for Siem Reap for a Deaf/blind conference. I am not sure which area I represent –probably the dumb, since I will never have full confidence in my language skills. That will cover a couple of days. Then back to the furnace of activity in Phnom Penh and more of the same old, same old. In the meanwhile, Continue being yourselves and know that I miss you and care for you.

Your wandering pilgrim, Paco the not so agrarian type.