The beginning of December has marked a great continuation in the trend of ongoing visitors on an every other weekly basis. This week’s visitor, however, was no ordinary guest; it was my Dad. Before he arrived in Phnom Penh, I already knew I’d be seeing him walking out of the small airport terminal when he arrived and had been thinking about my plan for everything we would do during the days that he’d be with me in Phnom Penh, but nonetheless, it was still strange to actually see him walk out into Cambodia. It was someone so familiar in a place now so familiar but a person and a place previously unrelated. The context of things was strangely altered.
We tuk-tuked into the city, choosing to get him right into things from the start and deciding not to take one of the airport car taxis into town. Already, during the ride, I started to get that sense of urgency of wanting to show him everything that would explain my life here since we only had a few days in Phnom Penh together. Also, before we even arrived, I already wanted to get his impressions of the surroundings. Was it how he pictured it?
It felt surreal coming into the city, down Russian Boulevard and past the university, with Dad sitting next to me. Even his crisp, somewhat dressy clothes, put on in business-oriented Hong Kong, contrasted so greatly with the dusty surroundings and the people I’ve grown accustomed to seeing. In fact, the first thing I noticed when he came out of the airport doors was the quality and cleanliness of his button-down shirt, neat blazer, and dry cleaned pants.
And of course, we got the cell phone call from mom while we were still in the tuk-tuk to check in on us and get an update.
In the apartment, I was given my new collapsible, one foot high tinsel Christmas tree and appropriately small penguin ornaments. Out came the travel menorah as well. Copied Christmas CDs that I had requested also appeared with numerous other treats. And then the ultimate stack of new magazines appeared, which I had to restrain myself from just sitting down with right then and flipping through every single new page. It was like Christmas in…well, December, but not that part of December.
Next up was lunch at the FCC. Although I rarely actually go there on my own, it seemed like the classic place to introduce someone to Phnom Penh, and it lived up to that introduction. There’s still nothing like sitting under the ceiling fans at the counter that runs along the balcony and looking out at the small fishing boats that fly the converging Mekong and Tonle Sap Rivers right in front of Phnom Penh. Every single time I go there, I’m always surprised by how pleasant an atmosphere it is, and it doesn’t seem to diminish even though I now go expecting the best.
Unfortunately, in order to squeeze in a trip to Vietnam during a week and a half when I officially only had one day off from work in addition to the weekend meant that I had to teach during all of the days that Dad was in Phnom Penh. It resulted in a moderately chaotic schedule of lesson planning in the mornings, rushing to get through certain sites, and general busyness, but it also meant that Dad got to see my regular work routine, meet my students, and see RUPP - on the whole, a much better situation than if he had come when I wasn’t teaching any classes. After work on the first day and after Dad began falling asleep in his curry, we headed back and checked into his hotel. I don’t think they really knew what to do with us when we walked in. We pulled up in a tuk-tuk with a few bags at around 10 PM. They were a little surprised when we asked to check in, apologizing for assuming that we had already been staying there and had just gotten back from a late day in the city. Then came the “Is this your first time in Phnom Penh” question. Well, yes, and no.
The Hotel Le Royal is the grand hotel of Phnom Penh, a building built by the French in the late 1920’s in one of Phnom Penh’s heydays, and it continues to have a mystique that comes from feeling like your staying in a place steeped in history. It continued to thrive into the 1960’s, another heyday of Cambodian prosperity, culture, and grandness and one that resulted from the optimism of independence. By the 1970’s, the hotel ended up being what the FCC today claims to be (and was in the 1990’s): a place where journalists exchanged stories, chatted about events, and grabbed drinks after tough days covering the war. By 1975, in Phnom Penh’s last days of life, the building was decked in white flags and served as a Red Cross designated safe-haven before the Khmer Rouge completely sealed off the country from the rest of the world. After reopening as the “Solidarity Hotel” under the Vietnamese occupation in the 1980’s, it was picked up by Raffles in the mid-1990’s and has now regained its place of prominence as a social center in the city. The art deco lobby, with elegantly arched columns and antique stone Buddhas, the creaky, deeply stained wooden grand staircase, and the gardens and pool in the back all contribute to a sense of staying someplace special.
For me, it was at the same time wonderful and surreally strange to stay there. The air-conditioned rooms, brightly lit bathrooms, fresh smelling lobby, lush pool area, and carefully restored architecture that existed within its elegant outer walls stood in contrast to my apartment and the places where I’m used to being. The shower had great water pressure, and the intricately tiled floors of the hotel were noticeably clean and shiny. As the building is well-sealed and is set back from the street among overflowing gardens, the silence was noticeable to me in a way that’s similar to realizing how quiet your house is when the power goes out and you no longer here the refrigerator noises or other minor sounds that you didn’t even realize you were used to hearing. All of the grounds feel completely peaceful and relaxed inside and far removed from the bustle outside. It was a wonderful treat, and couldn’t get enough of just spending time in this comfortable environment, sitting in the comfy chairs around the hotel. At the same time, though, I made sure that Dad and I went to some of my regular places in town because it felt like we were completely removed from Phnom Penh. I was wonderfully relaxed and it was incredibly peaceful to be there, but I felt like stepping through the front gates and onto the neatly gravel laid driveway was like entering a bubble world somewhat removed from the “real” Cambodia. I woke up the morning after my first night there having absolutely no idea where I was at first. Breakfast at the hotel was amazing, and each morning, I tried to game plan how I could maximize eating the foods I didn’t normally have without being “that guy.”
During the mornings, we attempted to see some of the sights in town and also just took long, winding strolls to get a sense for the city. At one point, Dad finally confessed that he couldn’t get over how much the city smelled like sewer everywhere. I always notice it in a few places, but for as dirty as the city is, I always found sewer smell to be proportionally absent. Unfortunately, now that it’s been brought to my attention, all I can now smell is that awful sewer smell.
In the afternoons, Dad joined me in my classes, which my students loved. They found it especially amusing when I had to remind…ehem…”the class” to remember to stop talking with his neighbor while I was speaking. Nonetheless, he would have gotten a good participation grade, and his English was flawless.
I also got to introduce him to the other teachers, and we spent some time in the office before classes as well. Many of the Cambodian teachers who weren’t immediately there when I introduced him came up to ask who this mysterious person was and then went crazy when they found out he was my dad. The homemade banana bread that he brought was gone by the time we got back from my first bunch of classes. And this week, many of the teachers have come up to me and told me how Khmer our family is because of the fact that we seem so close. They thought we seemed more like friends than father and son, were impressed that he came all the way just to visit me, and especially liked the fact that even my mom felt that she wanted to send homemade treats. Plus, we got extra bonus points with Boramy when she saw us pull gym clothes out of our bags so that we could change for aerobics after class on the last day before we headed to Vietnam. She announced that we would be the best-looking aerobics participants in all of Olympic Stadium. And so we went, on our last evening before heading to Hanoi.