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| Rush Hour |
Imagine a large anthill disurbed, and you have the chaos of Cambodian traffic, teaming mostly with motos (motorcycles), tuk-tuks (carriages pulled by a motorcycle), a few cars, bicycles, and pedestrians. The humidity thickened the smog and dust, and I wished for a surgical mask like everyone else wore. James said I looked tired; damn, I thought I was sufficiently refreshed.
We checkin into our cute little hotel and then set out on the town. I immediately fell in love with the people - everyone soooo friendly, easily returning smiles. English was limited, however, so I knew I'd better start learning some Khmer. There is no standard Roman equivalent to the Khmer alphabet, so different websites show different spellings - eek! I jotted down the required basics in my book.
Your Khmer Lesson:
Hello - Joom Riep Su
How are you? - Sok sabai chea tay?
I am fine. - Knyom sok sabai.
Thank you (very much) - Akun (jann)
Yes - Cha (if you're a girl), Baat (if you're a guy)
No - Ahtay
Sorry - Sohm toh
Everyone's faces would light up like sunshine when I greeted them, and were even happier to help my pronunciation when I asked. James, with a head full of Thai, was grateful I picked it up so quickly.
I know you're curious about our first night together. Yes, we shared a room and a bed. And in an effort to avoid awkwardness I hopped in without any shyness. He was a gentleman, though perhaps a bit too much of one.
Our loose travel plan was to spend 3 nights in PP - to explore the city some and sort out a general itinerary for our two weeks together. We visited the Royal Palace, National Museum, a park and temple or two, and took a day trip out to the Mekong (or Silk) island, which was my personal favorite. Every single time we got into a tuk-tuk, we had to assure the driver that we did not want to visit The Killing Fields, Genocide Museum, or shoot machine guns. Neither of us were in denial of Cambodia's tragic history, but we agreed those weren't very conducive 'first date' activities, and preferred to learn more in our own way and time.
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| Jacline and I |
By the time we ventured out to Silk Island, my Khmer had really broadened, and the little local woman who met us at the ferry loved me for it. Jacline popped us both on the back of her moto and took us around. She introduced us to her family, working away on the loom weaving silk scarves, table cloths and more. Her 12 year old daughter gave me a quick lesson. We figured it'd take me 2 weeks to finish a table runner she could do in a day. :-) The ladies in my life are going to love the silk scarves I picked out for them. :-)
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| Silk Loom Lesson |
We visited "the beach" - a trash-strewn stretch of river front with little rentable huts to lounge in, and a quiet little village w/chanting monks, ceramic buddhas being made and an enchanting temple. An old man laying in his hut called out to me. I padded over and knelt near him. His wife was tending to his crippled legs. I tried the Khmer greeting, but Jacline had said they spoke a different language here. Instead we smiled at each other and nodded a lot. I got the impression he had not seen many Westerners here and was happy for the company.
On our way back to the ferry (which, by the way, was just a large floating plank of wood with an engine attached), we were enveloped by school children riding bicycles home for the day. Big smiles, enthusiastic HELLOs, waving, and giggling NEVER gets old I tell you! And our popularity sky-rocketed as soon as I broke out a roll of sweettarts to share. The initial sour taste was met with puckered lips and questioning looks, but after I mimicked biting, they crushed their way to pleasant sweetness.
After 3 days in the loud, smog-y chaotic city, James and I were more than ready to set out for the rest of the country, with our first stop to be in the famed but quiet seaside town called Kep. We arranged for a private car to save ourselves a crowded and tortuous 4 hour AC-less bus journey, a thankful decision, given the 24 hours that was to come.
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