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. 

Quarantine Day 8: Dancing in Empty Rooms

I keep looking up from what I'm doing, searching for Jacques for a split instant before remembering he's back in Durham with my parents. Each time we video chat, he comes into the room and I see his tail going tik-tok-tik-tok, before he starts to 'talk' - a whimpery-moany-singsong - and sometimes, he'll put his paws on the computer desk and start into the camera at me. At night, sometimes I reach over to pat him, or leave my hand hanging off the edge of the bed for him to sniff. 

Pulls at all my heart strings. I miss my buddy. 

Meanwhile, quarantining in a huge, two-floor, five-bedroom house gets old, fast. I creep outside now and then to soak in some sun, or sit in the screened-in upstairs patio to watch tuk-tuks and people go by. 

During the past week, I've followed a daily routine of wake up, a quick workout or stretch, shower, dress for work, WhatsApp the folks, eat breakfast while FaceTime-ing, then log on for work. 

I spend the day on two computers, learning as much as I can about my office and the employees, the issues big and small. Setting up all my accounts takes time, too. 

At noon, I take an hour for lunch and usually read a book or watch Netflix. At 5pm, I log off and either make or order dinner. 

Jet lag is rough this time around. On Thursday the worst seemed past; on Friday it was as though I'd only just arrived. A couple of folks have told me it took them two weeks. Half-way there!

Keeping my eye on this coming Thursday, when I'll get another nostril-swab for COVID, and hopefully get my negative results back quickly enough to move to my permanent apartment, though that may happen Friday instead. 

When I get really bored and antsy, I challenge myself to sing and dance my way through every room of the house. Not only does it get me moving, but the echoes sound pretty good sometimes. I try to go up and down the stairs several times a day, a curved, wide staircase that makes me feel like waving each time I reach the bottom. 

It's an anti-climactic beginning to a new adventure, darkened a little by the absence of my furry friend, lightened a little by daily chats with my family and various friends. Next weekend I'll be out and about, hopefully busy meeting new friends and exploring the neighborhood. 

For today, though, my weekend excitement is cooking, doing laundry, watching movies, and listening to the street sounds: the clang of the construction site across the way, the beep-beep-beep of tuk tuks, the shouts of guys hauling carts and selling their wares, car alarms, dog barks, and once, a really noisy cat yowl.