A Bike Ride in Foreign Lands

Dear reader, 

It happens from time to time, where I plan to have a relaxing weekend and one or two outings, and then ... I overdo it. On Saturday, things went according to plan: up early to go to the local market with two friends, which was very interesting and incredibly hot. Then I actually did relax a bit, between putting things away in my apartment. Did I mention that last Wednesday, my household effects arrived? Yeah - they did, and it occurred me to me anew that it's high time to become a minimalist. Ha! Also, I hadn't realized just how much stuff came with me from Mali... 

Anyway, after a day of relaxing, I went to dinner at a French-Cambodian restaurant called Wat Damnak, which is walkable from my home. Joined by three friends, I enjoyed a 7-course plant-based meal and a bottle of German pinot noir in a pleasant outdoor courtyard. Afterwards, I walked home and went straight up to the rooftop floor to soak my feet in the pool and listen to the city. What a great Saturday!

Today, I woke up early, ready to go on a group bike ride (my bicycle arrived with my HHE), but it was raining and I decided that no, this was not the day to go cruising in the wet. Instead, I had breakfast with neighbors at a nearby cafe, then returned to arranging my apartment: this time, it was sorting all my books and schlepping them to the various bookshelves. After two hours, the rain had cleared and while clouds remained, that cut down on the heat. So two neighbors and I headed out on bicycles. 

Four hours and 21.8 miles later, we had ridden three ferries, gotten rained on, visited two temples and suffered lower legs covered in mud spatters. We biked on dirt roads and through puddles, passed and were passed by motos, tuktuks, and exhaust-spewing trucks, and weaved among potholes and pedestrians. 

After showering and taking a breath, I met a friend down the street for a light snack and catch-up chat. Then, legs wobbling and body aching, I canceled my dinner plans, ordered out, and parked myself on my couch. And with that, I leave you with the below photos, because I'm exhausted. 

 

Some interesting statues invited
participation at a temple grounds. 

Silk Island park had some freshly painted statues
of various animals. It also had live animals,
including peacocks, hornbills, porcupines, and a crocodile.
That last was the saddest, because it was in a cage maybe
three times its size - which was huge.

Two sizable pigs on the ferry, on their way to... a 
happier life, perhaps? Probably not.

Our rest stop had this gorgeous
walkway, flowers and vines dangling.

Our rest stop view.

The ferry ride back to Phnom Penh and its skyline.
Our bikes are there on the railing - we climbed up to
catch the breeze and enjoy the final ferry ride.

Settling in to Phnom Penh

At the end of my second week out of quarantine, I feel as though I've been here longer. Work is zooming right along, keeping me busy and more than a little stressed at times. My apartment is feeling more like my own, and after this next week will feel even more so, as my household goods delivery is happening. Yahoo!

My Cambodia experiences thus far involve work, grocery shopping and restaurants, a little bit of walking around exploring, and the odd visit to a cultural venue here and there. At work, I organized a commemoration ceremony for the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. The experience taught me a lot and showed me how much more I have to learn, but ultimately went very well. Most of the shopping I've done have been at "psar tohm-nup" as they're called in Khmer, or modern supermarkets. One visit to a "psar mulatan" or local market was at Russian market, which was fun but in the COVID era, not somewhere I'll frequent for awhile yet, due to its narrow walkways in confined spaces. Restaurants have been a mix of indoor and outdoor, each with a temperature scanner and spray bottle or mist of sanitizer. Only good food experiences so far, but nothing "local" or Cambodian yet. It will take me awhile, I think, to brave the streets and feel comfortable getting the more local feel of my neighborhood, this city, this country.

One thing that has me scratching my head is how very Western it all is, and how very strange this veneer feels. There are dozens of Starbucks-like coffee shops, for example, with sparkling windows and gleaming cappuccino or espresso machines, but just a customer or two and a Cambodian street vendor walking by with a cart of coconuts, perhaps, or tuk-tuk drivers hanging out hoping for a fare. It's the dichotomy of rich and poor, yes, but it's also an internal debate I have with myself:

"Wow, that's so odd, to see something so modern and new and shiny and expensive in an economically poor country like this," my state-the-obvious brain cell says wonderingly 

"Oh, what, so Cambodia can't have nice things? You want everyone to be barefoot and poor, looking at you as the rich Westerner?" sneers the self-critical brain cell who likes to point out the hypocrisy of my thoughts. 

"Girls, girls, can't it be both? Cambodia is a developing nation, with lots of foreign aid and investment, so of course there will be signs from both of those worlds as they collide," placates the pacifist, too-reasonable brain cell. 

A massive Mercedes-Benz SUV roars by, with the distinctively off-putting paint job of being all white except for the black-painted hood. The brain cells fall silent and watch from the tuk-tuk I'm taking from one place to another.

"It's going to take awhile," I say to myself, "To understand Cambodia."

Luckily, I have time.

First Week Recap

On day 13 of quarantine, the Embassy medical testing unit came to the house. Garbed in gown, mask, face shield, and gloves, he had me sit, nostril swabbed me with minimal (in my opinion) whining by me, and was off again. I was swab-ee number 20 and assumed that my results would take the predicted 24 hours. So I went back into my very large quarantine house and settled in for a day of work. 

The good part of quarantine is the time available to really comb through work e-mails and start understanding how things work at my new post. Who communicates with who, what the process maps are, and so on. 

The bad part of quarantine is the boredom. I can be lazy with the best of them, snoozing and cooking and reading and watching Netflix. But after all that - and hours of all that - then what? I wandered from room to room, watched storms from the screened in upper patio, talked to myself, and chatted with far away friends via Facetime and Whatsapp. 

Less than a handful of hours after getting swabbed, I got the all-clear, and immediately put on shoes and went outside. Walking down the street felt surreal, passing three different coffee shops was a hoot, and the heat was oppressive. After an hour or so, I wandered back to the house, packed up all my stuff, and moved over to my permanent apartment, with the help of my social sponsor M and his car. Once we lugged my three suitcases and two boxes of mailed-to-myself items and groceries up to my 2-story apartment, M offered to show me around the neighborhood. We visited an art store and he pointed out shops that had changed owners/wares two, three, four times over his two years here. We essentially walked around the block, dodging tuk-tuks. There are few sidewalks here so it pays to be observant!

By the time M dropped me off at my apartment, I was hot and sweaty and more than a little frazzled feeling. I made up a bed with some linen sheets I'd sent myself, and nibbled on some fruit. The internet wasn't working and the building staff weren't around to fix it. When I started feeling bass thumps through my walls, I started to freak out. 

I paced, and went onto my balcony to see if I could figure out where the music was coming from. It seemed to be a neighbor. I tried going upstairs to read, but could still hear/feel the bass. The thought going through my head was, "I have made a horrible mistake." 

A phone call later and my friend and colleague L swung by in a tuk-tuk to pick me up. She had also just gotten released from quarantine, and was going out to dinner with someone that she knew. She invited me to come along and thank goodness, that helped me breathe and calm down a bit. We went to Nesat, a little seafood restaurant that is not "indoors" so much as covered. We had delicious food, including snails (!), shrimp stir fry, river lobster (which turned out to be giant prawn), and more. The flavors were unique and strong, the conversation light, the laughter constant. When I got home, I felt much better and crashed to sleep. 

That was a week ago. Now, after a week going to work and meeting dozens of new people, both American and Cambodian, and taking on new projects as well as learning the ropes, I can honestly say: this is going to be a magnificent tour! Busy, yes, and stressful, of course. But there's so much to do and see and taste! 

It generally rains a bit each day, and we've had a few solid thunder/lightning downpours. A few cursory visits to grocery stores show that there's no lack of things I'll need and want. And my apartment faces a huge tree with great branches: one day, a hornbill landed not ten feet from me and I was able to admire his strange beak. I'm having a great time so far.

A note about COVID here: since July, the trends of infections and death have been going down, which is a relief. There's an alcohol ban in place, most people seem to be masking, and stores and restaurants have contactless thermometers, QR code scans for contact tracing, hand sanitizer, and so on. At work, masks are required except when in your own office space. It feels like it's taken seriously, which is a relief. 

Some photos from the past ten days:

Brunch at Ministry of Cat
means feline company.

A nearby cafe offers
tasty food and pretty
plating. 

A rainy day here means
flooding streets.

One of my favorite features
of my apartment: the rooftop pool.