Within the past couple of weeks, there have been a number of incidents that have showed me that I’ve passed my initial phase of being here. Some of them have been amusing, some meaningful, and some sweet. Irrelevantly, I wanted to share these little things that have made me feel a part of the Cambodian family.
1) It all started with Independence Day a couple of weeks ago. Although I’ve begun to become pretty close with many of the other teachers at school, it’s been hard to break into the doing-something-outside-of-school realm. I live in a different part of the city than most of them, and many of them have families or other jobs outside of school. But on Friday, we all had the day off for Independence Day, and Sumana, one of the younger teachers, had the great idea of planning a social activity since we were all free anyway. So we headed down to Parkway, your local fun and entertainment center on Mao Tse Tung Boulevard, for a little bowling.
Besides maybe when I left to fly to Laos and felt this way in the very modern and air-conditioned Phnom Penh airport, I’ve never felt like I’ve left the city while still being here so much. The bowling ally is as classic as it gets, with the appropriate dated plastic chairs and neon cloth wall designs. The whole time, I had to constantly look around and try to find signs of the fact that I wasn’t in downtown White Plains. It was really fun to get to hang out with some of the other teachers in a more relaxed setting; however, I did let Team America down in the actual bowling department. Emily, the other new, foreign (British) teacher at ELSU and I were split into different teams since we had both bowled before, and though we both carried our Khmer teammates, I lost decisively and certainly failed to follow through with the skills I’ve developed from my twice a year bowling habits.
Afterwards, we all went to Lucky Burger downstairs to get burgers and french fries for dinner. I tried to explain to them how amusing it was to me that we were celebrating Cambodian Independence Day with burgers, as I think it’s about as close as you can get to an American burger and hot dog barbeque here in Phnom Penh. Anyway, the whole Independence Day celebration all felt very familiar to me.
2) That following Sunday, Leslie arrived in town for her three day visit, to check in with us, spend some time in Phnom Penh, touch base with our bosses, and work on the continuation of the fellowships into the coming years. I’ll keep it short, but we had a great time. It was great to catch up and spend some time together. For Brendan and I, we had the treat of dinner at the FCC (Foreign Correspondents Club), and Phnom Penh even put on a fireworks show over the Tonle Sap for us while we were eating.
On her last night here, Leslie, Brendan, Brendan’s boss, and I all went to the Red Cow (a Khmer beer garden and restaurant that I’ve embarrassingly started calling the Red Rooster by accident, indicating that you should be careful about what you make fun of your parents for doing). Brendan’s boss is the editor of the Phnom Penh Post. He started the paper in the early 1990’s; he’s lived here through a lot of stuff; and he’s somewhat of an institution. Every night, you can find him at Cantina, a small Mexican restaurant and bar on the riverfront decorated in a mix of war-era black and white photographs of Cambodia and old school Mexican movie posters featuring mariachi singers, Mexican cowboys, and “salsa-ing” dancers. Somehow, it hangs together well and feels like the local expat hangout spot that it is. Cantina is the new FCC. With the FCC filled with tourists and high priced menu items, Cantina, a mere five storefronts further up Sisowath Quay but on the ground floor, has taken over as the spot for expats living in Phnom Penh. But I digress.
Not only can you usually find Michael Hayes at the institution that is Cantina, but he also just has the right look of a journalist who started his own paper in Phnom Penh, with the right kind of clothing and the right gate to his walk of someone who’s been working here for a while. I’ve heard all about him from Brendan, whom I think has a huge amount of respect for him but is also moderately terrified of him, and I was really curious and excited to actually meet him. Anyway, I found him charming and fascinating and to be the kind of person you want to like you. He’s incredibly sarcastic but also caring at the same time. The four of us ate together, but unlike Brendan, I had no inhibitions with this new acquaintance. Instead of fearing that I would do something that would offend or give the wrong impression to my boss, I was able to enjoy the meal and engage in the banter.
Anyway, at the end of the meal, he excused himself to go work on something at the paper but made sure to give me his business card before he left. It killed me that I didn’t have mine printed yet to exchange back (as having and exchanging business cards here is very common), but although it was insignificant, I was so pleased that I had gotten his approval enough to warrant a business card. And again, I felt like I was being brought into the Cambodian fold.
3) Around the same weekend, I called Buntha to arrange what time I would go to school that week. We made the plans, and at the end of the phone call, he told me he needed to ask me a favor. He hesitated and then proceeded to ask if he could borrow twenty-five dollars. Embarrassingly, I asked why he needed it. Money is a very complicated issue here, and I have very mixed feelings about the “hand-outs” that occur here. It’s something I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about and will elaborate more on at some other point in a different blog entry. But anyway, I hesitantly acquiesced.
During the night, though, I became more and more ashamed of the way I had been so hesitant to just say yes. Buntha was no stranger, and he had never asked me for money before (other than, of course, to pay him for driving me - but even then, he rarely asked for a specific amount and just asked me to give him what I thought was fair). I had been so hesitant because the Westerner-Cambodian interaction has developed so strangely in some ways that many interactions are money-based in some way. I purposely try to preserve certain spheres in which money is not exchanged. Anyway, though, as I thought it over, I realized that Buntha was no stranger to me. I’ve known him for about two and a half months. He’s never asked for money. And I realized how much he must have dreaded having to ask me. I should have been happy to help him.
After a while, I realized that here I’ve been looking for ways to help people who are in need in this country, and one incident with someone I know and like fell into my lap without me searching, and I didn’t jump on it. Instead of feeling taken, I started to feel good that Buntha and I had developed enough of a relationship that he felt he could come to me if he was in need.
The next day, he reassured me that he would pay me back within ten days. Knowing that he usually gets about $2.50 from me on a daily basis and that I’m his most consistent and overwhelming source of income, I knew that paying me back the $25 within ten days would be hard for him. Instead, I told him that there was no need to pay me back and that it was a thank you for how helpful he’s been to me. I simply asked that he help me or someone else at some point in the future if he’s in the position to. By the way, the money ended up being for paying a doctor’s bill for his son, who is fine.
4) Separately, about a week later, as I was talking to Buntha about my upcoming trip to Vietnam, he interjected and said that he hoped I would not still be away by the end of December because he and his family were going to his hometown in the provinces, and he wanted me to join them. Of course, I was very touched and know that these are the kinds of trips that can make a year here worthwhile. Anyway, so I’m now going to his hometown to see his extended family on December 29-31.
A few days later, he confessed to me that his wife was a little concerned that I wouldn’t have anything to eat. I told him not to worry, knowing that I’d be willing to try some out of the ordinary dishes and figuring that I’d secretly pack some granola bars or other food that I’ve been saving for the moment when I really need them just in case. He then cautiously asked if I could eat chicken. Chicken? I think I can manage. Beef? Yes. Pork? Yes. I think Khmer people sometimes think we’re all wimps. Anyway, I’m very much looking forward to the trip, and we’ve both talked about how excited we are about it a few times since. I’m sure I’ll actually get a little nervous about it once it gets close because it is out in the countryside, and I’ll just be living in their house for two days, which as insignificant as it may sound, may result in some uncomfortable or awkward situations that will require me to either suck it up or decide when to accept or decline what I’m sure will be their over the top hospitality. I’m really excited about it.
5) December and January are pretty popular months to get married here, not that there aren’t weddings all year round. In general, weddings here are quite a sight. Usually, they involve huge tents with gold-spray painted styrofoam structures that mimic the Angkor-era temples or contemporary Wats. They set up these enormous tents and Nickelodeon “Legend of the Hidden Temple”-style styrofoam structures right out in the street in front of the couple’s house or shop. As a result, the normal street generally gets narrowed down so much from the tents being set up in the middle of the road that there’s usually only a motorbike’s width worth of road left to pass by on. No one seems to complain, though.
Anyway, I’ve been looking in from the outside for quite some time but will soon be able to give you the report first hand. First, Rabia and my Khmer teacher, Sokha, told us one day recently that he would be unable to teach us for the rest of the week…because he was asking his girlfriend to marry him that night. He is incredibly excited and has since mentioned it numerous times. And Rabia and I got the invite for the January wedding.
Then, this past Friday, one of the other teachers at school was leading a meeting with the department to review the finals protocols and all of the possible ways that our students might cheat on exams when he made an announcement that everyone should keep that Sunday before exams free. We all assumed he wanted us to be on hand in case any changes needed to be made to our tests or in case anyone had any questions until he told us that he wanted us to be around because we were all invited to his wedding. I think he wished he never told us, as none of the teachers could stop talking about it or asking him about it. Is it going to be a Western-style or Khmer-style wedding? What kind of music is there going to be? Where is it going to be? Will he have lots of pictures taken of the event? Anyway, I now have two weddings to go to (and my first ones in a very long time if you don’t count the ceremonial ones that Dan Hawkins always seemed to get roped into last summer in China). The male and female teachers at school have already decided where they are respectively meeting beforehand and what they’re wearing. It feels very middle school, and it’s fun to be a part of it.
6) A day after moving in to our apartment, I tried out one of the restaurants down our block and ended up meeting the two guys who run it. They’re about my age, and one of them is a Cambodian who speaks English fluently. The other is a Cambodian-American who moved back here two years ago and works for BBC during the day. They’re both very friendly and interesting guys, and it’s become my local, non-street food default restaurant. I now sit at the “owner’s table” with them whenever I go, and they’re a good link to what’s going on around the neighborhood. I found out from them, for example, that the French colonial house on the corner used to be the private house of the prime minister who served during the 1950’s. A nice bit of trivia to have picked up about what I’ve been photographing. Also, they’re just really nice guys, and it’s nice to stop in there every once in a while
7) Finally, my last little story involves Liep, our housekeeper. Liep comes in every Monday and Thursday to clean and do laundry. She’s incredibly nice, though the loud “HELLO” in my ear (her one word of English) at 7:30 in the morning is, I have to admit, not always something I’ve come to look forward to. I’ve learned to get up at six on those days so I can get myself together before she comes and before we get scolded for leaving an extra fan on somewhere in the house because we had left the room for thirty seconds. Additionally, there’s the requisite chat in the morning. She speaks no English, and my Khmer is still…a work in progress.
Anyway, this past week, I was in the kitchen when she came in with a photo album to show me. It was very sweet, and she started showing me pictures of her daughter and “her other kids,” which in the Khmer way of speaking could mean nephews, nieces, family friends, etc. Anyway, I just had this feeling about what was happening, so I made sure to emphasize how much I liked the photo of her and her six siblings all together and kept flipping back to that picture. I somewhat feigned ignorance when I think I really knew what she was saying. As a result of my knowing only a little bit of Khmer, I kind of go in and out of consciousness in conversations, in a similar way that you kind of know what’s going on when you’re half asleep but can never be too sure that you remembered correctly exactly what happened. (As a side note, it’s been pretty exciting learning the language because, every week, someone seems to mention or start a conversation with me about a subject whose vocabulary I just learned. In that way, I feel like I’m always just learning the vocabulary in time to understand the conversation, when my guess is that they could have been talking about the same things before, and I just happened to be oblivious to it). Anyway, in this case, my thoughts were quickly confirmed when Brendan came up to my room about twenty minutes later and told me that he thought Liep had just asked if he was interested in marrying on of her daughters and having kids.
I think the two weddings I’m already planning on attending in January are enough for me, thank you very much.