Market Snaps

A few weekends ago, I felt smugly pleased about choosing what to do in the moment, not planning ahead, and feeling like I found a perfect balance of doing nothing and doing things. This weekend, it somehow turned into the opposite. I woke up and had a list of things I wanted to do, needed to do, and felt it would be good to do. I wrote a list. And I got overwhelmed and felt anxious. 

Luckily, a friend snapped me out of it by inviting me to explore local markets with her and another friend, and gently nudging me to come along when I waffled. Camera around my next and shoulders tensed (for no reason beyond feeling overwhelmed by choices), I hopped into the tuktuk. We visited two markets and became so completely engrossed in the sights, sounds, smells and bustle around us that it was easy to leave the panic behind. 

It's becoming more fun to take snaps and then peruse them once home. Years ago, my dad got me a video series on photography and I hope to avail myself of the lessons, practice the techniques, and get better. For now, though, it's just fun to let my eye rove and pick out the fun and exotic and interesting. It feels good to practice asking permission to take a person's photo in the local language, respecting answers positive and negative. 

It feels good to focus my energy and thoughts on the immediate, the world right in front of me. Here's what I saw today.

Egg in all forms

Basket o' little fishies

Well protected from the sun and 
ready to sell her wares

After I carefully asked permission to take their 
photos, the woman on the right put on her mask 
before giving me the thumbs up. 

Food stall

Lunch nearby a jewelry counter

He was pleased to have his photo 
taken, then turned shy when I 
used the word for handsome.

A butcher prepping and selling her food

Bright green greens for sale

Piles of little crispy shrimpies

Beans and grains, perfectly set up in 
rolled down bags

Lunch outside the market

Street Snaps

Dragonfruit for sale on
busy street.

It's been an eventful couple of months since my last post back in May. Since then, summer turnover has brought sad farewells as friends depart from Cambodia, and happy hellos to new friends and colleagues. 

One exciting event was finally receiving my Unaccompanied Baggage, UAB for short: a one-time air shipment that was picked up in July 2021, lost by the airline, relocated ten months later, and finally delivered to me. This reunited me with my Rebel T1 camera, which I purchased back in 2015 just before heading to Mali. 

One of the aforementioned new arrivals to Phnom Penh is a serious amateur photographer, and just talking to her rekindled my motivation. So, today as I made my way around town, I brought my camera and took some snaps. Enjoy! 

Remorque driver takes a break.

Motorbike corner coffee shop

Corner market stalls

Aged shop sign (no shop, though)

Mobile food stall, complete with awning and an array of sauces

Always the star of the show: Jacques!

This Weekend's for the Birds

In 2020, I celebrated the new year by going to a cabin in West Virginia with my best friend. We watched a movie or two, but mostly hiked during the day and played a board game in the evening over wine and conversation. The game: Wingspan. I'd just gotten it and asked my friend to help me learn to play it. We played three times over the course of our getaway and have enjoyed playing ever since. Even after I moved across the world, we've continued playing via Zoom. My friend even sent me the Oceania expansion pack, which includes birds that are found in my part of the world. 

Now, I'm no birder or expert in animal watching. But Wingspan is a lovely game with all sorts of information about birds. So when I heard about a local conservation company that does birding trips around Cambodia, I thought, why the heck not? 

Yesterday, I got up before the sun to take Jacques for a walk and then meet the tour company at a cafe called Farm to Table. After a cup of coffee and getting to know my fellow tour-goers, we were off. In the minivan were the driver, the guide Ladong, a German couple and a British woman, all of whom live and work in Cambodia and who, like me, were complete novices. Ladong told us about his ten years with Sam Veasna Conservation Tours as the minivan drove onto a ferry to cross the Mekong River just in time for sunrise - a lovely sight. 

After about 30-40 minutes, we pulled off on the shoulder of the road. I'll admit to a healthy dose of skepticism: there we were, on the side of a dirt road with the odd car, truck, or moto zooming by not infrequently. Like much of Cambodia, trash littered the shoulders of the road. To one side were rice paddies; to the other was a stream and farmland, with tall palms and bushy trees along the edges of the fields. Running alongside the road was a power line. Were we really going to look for birds?! What had the tour fee really paid for, after all? Thankfully, I was pleasantly surprised. 

The answer was yes, and we did indeed do some birding. Ladong handed out binoculars and set up a scope, and after a few minutes he was calling out the names of various birds and pointing us in the righ direction. There were Greater and Lesser Coucals, Yellow-Vented Bulbuls, Cinnamon Bitterns, and Cambodian Tailorbirds. Zebra Doves and Pied Fantails, a Little Egret, and an Indian Roller. We looked around and did our best to spot birds, on the power line or perched in trees, a few hopping around on the ground. After getting the hang of handling the binocs efficiently, it was lots of fun spinning around to see everything, and Ladong's enthusiasm and patience really made it a pleasure. After a while, he broke out a coffee thermos and little bananas for a breakfast snack, then we walked for a short distance and turned off the main road. A Chinese Pond Heron impressed us with its silvery white wings and we caught sight of a large lizard among the tall grasses, sunning. 

Next was a short drive to a Chinese monastery in a very foresty area echoing with birdsong. Ladong mimicked some of the calls and explained who they belonged to, then played them on his phone to attract birds. Sometimes it worked; more often it didn't. It was fun to stroll around in the verdant green along a mossy concrete path, passing various stupas and shrines, and occasionally catching glimpses of bird wings or rustling leaves. After a few hours of walking and listening and peering, we headed back to the starting point and had a fantastic brunch at Farm to Table, which largely serves vegetarian and vegan meals. 

Birding is not something I thought I'd really get into, but it was more fun and engaging than expected. My lovely living room windows look out onto a big, bushy tree which often has critters and birds moving about in its branches and leaves, and I look forward to trying to identify my feathered neighbors going forward. 

Here are few more pictures from the day:

Car ferry across the Mekong.

Birds-eye view of ferry passengers. 

Roadside flowers.

Black-shouldered kite.

Cambodian Tailorbird.

Non-feathered wildlife.

Furry pod plants.

More roadside flowers.

Chinese monastery.

Ever hopeful to spot that elusive bird.

Delicious brunch.

Ups, Downs, Itchies

Since my last post, I've gone on an island vacation and had a very even-keeled week of work, each with its attendant ups and downs. And lots and lots of itchiness...

So where'd I go? 

Jacques and I headed south-west early Monday morning for a five and half hour drive, navigating one and two lane roads with an inordinate number of trucks going both ways. There was a lot of holding of breath and passing into oncoming traffic. Luckily, animals and pedestrians weren't added obstacles. You may ask, what was my hurry? Well, if I hit 60mph more than once or twice, I'd be surprised; and most often my speed was 40mph or less. 

Jacques handled the drive much more calmly than me

At last, though, we made it to Sihanoukville and the port there. I met up with my friend and colleague L and her family, and we searched for the ferry that was to take us to our island paradise. Oddly, since we were staying at the same place on the island and had called the same ferry company in advance, and despite the fact they told us there was only one ferry to our island, we were on different boats. Mine left a little earlier than L's, so off I went with Jacques, a backpack, a small duffle of my clothing, and two tote bags (one for Jacques' stuff, one for miscellaneous items I thought of last minute). 

As we went to board the boat, which had a maximum capacity of around twenty people, it surprised me to see there were TWO other dogs going on the same ferry. What the...?! Those of you who know Jacques know what happened then: he started growling and snarling, a Chinese woman behind me began to scream, and I had to run away from the boarding area, leaving my bags behind. Once Jacques calmed down, we returned to find that my bags were the only things not loaded, and just one seat open in a two-facing-two nook. I waved at the boat company people to take my bags and the shook their heads: "No room! You take!"

Have you ever tried being the huge Western woman with five bags and a dog everyone's terrified of, squeezing down the aisle of a little ferry crammed with people, dogs, and more luggage than you could shake a stick at? No? Well, don't. I did end up being the shrill one, practically throwing my bags and one of the boat company guys since there was no way my sliver of bench was gonna fit me and all my stuff. 

It was Jacques' first boat ride and I had no idea how he'd do. In the few tuktuk rides he's taken he's tried to jump out, but he hates swimming, so it really was a crapshoot. And, he got to be crammed next to peoples' legs. Sometimes Jacques is less-than-friendly to people, especially when they reach down to pet him. 

It was a long boat ride. As you can see, though, Jacques was far less tense than me:

Maybe an hour later, we were deposited on a long pier at our island paradise, Koh Rong. You know the stereotype: gorgeous aquamarine waters, white powdery sand beach, bungalows, palm trees, kayaks and paddle boats dotting the shoreline. On side of the island (the east side) we stayed, there are about five little resorts, each with its own pool(s) and restaurant. L's family and I stayed at the brand new You & Me Resort. It's really not possible to tell you in words that will be any more illustrative than photos, and so here you go:

Jacques checking out our digs for the week.

Relaxing on my shady porch.

My bungalow at sunset.

The beach.

Jacques & I got up every morning to seen sunrise. 
Mostly it was cloudy, but still lovely.

The best sunrise while we were there. 

Checking out the island pagoda on a very hot day.

Adventures are fun with a buddy.

There you have it! We stayed on the island from Monday to Friday. Each day I got up to see the sunrise and walk Jacques before enjoying a breakfast of fruit, homemade passionfruit jam on toast, and my choice of eggs or cereal or Khmer noodles. Then it was time to beach a bit, to dip in the ocean and then the pool and then back, maybe with a quick nap in between. The 11am-3pm hours were crazy hot and there wasn't a lot of shade to hide in near the water, so I mostly read my book or snoozed during that time. L and family and I sometimes hung out, sometimes explored together, and sometimes did our own thing. It was pleasant and easy, as a vacation should be. 

What was there to do, you ask, besides beach and pool? Well, we walked half an hour to a small pagoda, which seemed to be a real mix of Chinese and Cambodian. And another time I went on a boat ride with three other families - each with two adults and two or three kids - to go snorkeling, which was a blast. We tried out the restaurant at the resort next door - Secret Garden - several times, and I got a massage there too. 

But really, one should soak up the wind and sand and salt on an island paradise, don't you think? So I mostly did that. 

The boat ride back to the mainland was better in some ways - I was with my friends, and there was only one other dog that Jacques had gotten used to during the week - but was mostly TERRIBLE. It was an incredibly windy morning, so much so that we hadn't gone to the beach because the sand-spray was too painful. And so the boat ride was choppy, and crammed with people, and with drivers who seemed to want to go fast until they got nervous and shut off the engine, letting the boat ride uuuup a swell, pause, and then slam back down. My butt came out of my seat on many occasions and Jacques' legs were shaking by the end of it, from exhaustion. He seemed no worse for wear. 

We spent the day and evening in Sihanoukville to recover, L and family staying at a different hotel (that didn't accept pets) than us. The weather was calmer on the mainland and Jacques and I got in a long shoreline walk before dinner. 

Dinner was delicious. I met L and family at Chhne Meas Restaurant, recommended to us by a colleague for its excellent seafood. We ate very, very well.

After a night at the clean, slightly run down yet nicely decorated Vinina Boutique Hotel on a mattress as soft as my dining room table, Jacques and I followed our routine: morning walk, breakfast, and then we hopped in the car and motored back to Phnom Penh. Although it took about the same amount of time - five hours and change - it seemed an easier drive to me. Perhaps I got used to the passing; or maybe there weren't quite as many trucks; the island paradise vacation may have relaxed me to the point of staying calm in traffic. In any case, we made it home without incident. 

Well, I did come home with one souvenir I'd much rather not have: bug bites. The sand fleas, invisible and choosey in their targets, had found me and apparently fallen in love with my flesh. It's a week later and the bites have not stopped itching for a single moment. Fifteen or twenty welts cover my upper arms and lower legs, and dot my chest and neck. They're unpleasant, too, swelling up and oozing and scabbing over. 

I'm exercising my willpower to actively Not Scratch, but it's hard and not a little maddening. No one else in my group got more than one or two bites. Jacques seems perfectly fine, not scratching at all. 

I'm just lucky. 

After a nice week at work that buzzed along busily but manageably, I'm now ready to sleep away the itchiness and have a low key weekend. And to start it off, I played my favorite boardgame, Wingspan, with the Oceania expansion set a good friend bought me over the holidays. 

Though I can't help but feel a little lonely and sad to be spending my Friday night in, alone but for my furry friend and some Mozart playing... 

Still, life is pretty good, and with the Omicron variant starting to spike and peak here, a night in isn't all bad. 

Yeah, life is good!

Arts & Sports & the Lonelies

 I've done a couple interesting things since my last blog entry, so here's a recap. 

The first notable activity was an art tour organized by the Community Liaison Office and a local art aficionado, a woman named Shauna, originally from Ireland who came to Cambodia to teach English, found she didn't care for the education system after a few years, and switched over to the arts sector. She fell in love with the country and the job, and is in the process of becoming a Cambodian citizen. Wow! 

Shauna arranged a visit of seven artist's galleries or home studios for a group of about fifteen people. We hopped in a bevy (herd? bunch? group?) of tuktuks and zoomed around town for about four hours. It was lots of fun visiting each artist and hearing what each had to say about their lives and their art. There were men and women, well known and unknown, old, young, abled and differently-abled. And a variety of mediums, too. By the seventh studio I was quite worn out, but my brain was full of good imagery. 

Chhim Sothy: studied traditional Khmer painting
for two years at the Royal University of Fine Arts.
Then,under the Vietnamese occupying forces of the
time, he studied communist poster art. Finally, he
focused on modern art and found himself drawn to
drip painting and abstract expressionism. 

Chan Phoun: A young man who lost one forearm in
an accident while working in a brick factory as a
child. During his recovery he started to create art,
and has traveled an interesting route from painted
bricks and statement art to detailed, intricate drawings
from his imagination and musings. 

Leang Seckon: This artist creates elaborate
tapestries using a wide range of media
with photographs, fabrics, drawings, and
local organic materials. His works draw from
his experience growing up during the Khmer
Rouge regime and his wish to explore the past,
present, and future of Cambodia.

Chhan Dina: This artist told us a fascinating story of
being selected as one of just a few Cambodian artists 
to go to a demining site and paint whatever came to
their minds. However, it was her nature paintings that
really impressed me. My favorite is on the far left of 
this photo - a bird on a branch in the snow, with all black
and gold paint brushstrokes. 

After the art tour, life continued apace. My normal routine involves getting up early to take Jacques for a 30-45 minute walk, usually around the neighborhood or over to the long median park with a few green strips along it. Street dogs are always a potential problem, though I'd say we meet them less than half the time we're out nowadays. A loud "hah!" or "shoo" generally makes them go away; if not, Jacques' snarls warn them off. Though some are persistent followers, making for a frustrating walk with Jacques' lack of control, for the most part they just pass us by or turn around. I like walking in the early morning, during or just after sunrise, along with other early walkers, joggers, and exercisers, of which there are many. 

Often there are pretty street scenes that remind me this is a very different country. We do the same walk in the evening, getting to see the monuments lit up and the trees with their colorful lights. Sometimes Jacques poops out, walking slow as a snail with the heat, and we take a break to watch the foot- and street traffic. It's a lovely routine, at times broken up by street dogs forcing us to take u-turns or run away or cross a street. 

Another part of routine is building relationships at work. This means meeting my colleagues from other sections and agencies, sometimes for work meetings and sometimes for lunch. My friend, colleague, and fellow Khmer language student and I decided to have a nice lunch at Sombok, a woman-owned, woman-run, woman-staffed French-Cambodian restaurant in Phnom Penh. Yum! Networking can be fun!

After a few weeks of routine, though, it's time for a change! So a work trip takes me up to Siem Reap along with a contingent of various agencies and sections from the Embassy. The goal: to do some outreach! This means different things to different parts of the Embassy, and for me it meant doing hotel inspections and research to prepare for some big VIP visits expected later this year. Over the course of two and a half days - it takes about six hours to get from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap - I visited ten hotels, two transportation companies and the local airport to meet the authorities there, attended a reception, and spoke about U.S. government business practices at a "Meet the Embassy" event. I also went out to dinner with my team of nine Cambodians. There wasn't time for exploring Angkor Wat or other touristy things, but it was lots of fun just to see the reviving city. Here are a few shots from my work trip:

Swanky sample table setting at one hotel.

Before Covid, this hotel had jazz nights in their
fantastic lounge.

Cambodian hotels do pools right!

Lum Orng, a farm to table restaurant, serves 
beautiful, tasty food. 

The Embassy reception was at Phare, 
the circus! The performers were incredible.

Posing in the lobby of another lovely hotel.

Some hotels had grounds to take the breath away.

After my week of diplomat-ing, it was time to catch up on office work, housekeeping, and Jacques. He did fine with me out of town, because my dog walker is amazing and she stayed with him while I was gone. He seemed happy to see me, punishing me for my absence by waking me early on the weekend days. Ah, well... 

Finally, I'd like to share that sometimes the Foreign Service life, full of exciting trips and exotic locales and interesting work, can also be incredibly lonely. I can't speak to couples or kids, but as a single Foreign Service officer, I admit that there are times I wonder what the heck I'm doing. I'm 41, single, no kids, no dating life (because I don't make an effort at one). There are times it seems like a big mistake, to venture out into the world and uproot myself every few years. Beyond my family and some very good friends - who are supportive and loving and wonderful - there is no community waiting for me to come back. Whenever I decide to retire, there won't be a city I call home, a house with my things in it, or a partner to help figure it all out. 

At times, the loneliness can be suffocating. Can I walk out my door and see an amazing culture, beautiful architecture. delicious food, and people slowly becoming familiar? Yes. But when I'm in my temporary home, casting about for something to do, especially in this period of time before I've made close friends... it makes me sad, sometimes. What to do when loneliness presses in? Sometimes a nap, or a book, or a movie, can help me zone out and relax. Other times, chatting with family or friends via Zoom is the solution. Sometimes, I wallow in self pity. Others, I try to count all the wonderful things in my life. 

And sometimes, I try to form new relationships. Last weekend when "the lonelies" hit me, I decided (after a good bit of the other ways of coping) to join a group called the Hash House Harriers. This is often billed as a drinking club with a running problem. It's a group of people that goes out every week and does a long run. Luckily for me, there are others who detest running as much as I do, so there is a walking group as well. There are HHH groups around the world. There was one in Bamako, and Paris, and in most places there are embassies. It's a group of various nationalities, including the local one, and they have all kinds of end-of-run rituals involving beer and strange songs and camaraderie. 

So I went for a walk and, sure enough, it helped to chase the dark clouds away. 

Prayer houses are everywhere, sometimes large like
this one, sometimes small and less colorful. 

Hot, sweaty, and feeling good.

Walking through a grove of some sort.

This captures the day very well: hot, sunshiney,
with a path forward.

The overlook at the end of the walk.