Raining in Phnom Penh

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  Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Thursday, June 23, 2005

David and I are back in Phnom Penh and Jeff is in Hoi An (then Bangkok). From here Dave and I will go to northern Thailand and meet Jeff in Bangkok for a few days (fruit shake guy, I'm on the way!) then all head back to Hong Kong and to U.S.

This written on the bus from Vietnam border to Phnom Penh: 42/43 years ago I was on the road out West, hitch-hiking through Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, etc. for about a year; climbing in the El Dorado Canyon, Arches Natl Monument, Rocky Mtn Natl Park, and so on - looking for America. Now I'm on the road again - not the same, but it is the road - looking for Cambodia? This time, headed across Cambodia (again), retracing previous route from Phnom Penh to Saigon. The bus is packed with backpackers and a few Cambodians. As on a previous ride, there is water dripping from overheads, but not on my head.

Cambodia!

I'm glad to be back. The rains have started and the land that was dusty and brown a few weeks ago is now green. Many more people working in the fields. It gives me joy to see.

So far the bus has stopped for a pig, cows, water buffalo, goats, to pick up passengers, let off passengers, check on the cause of the dripping water (not found), and to get on a ferry.

It's raining in Phnom Penh and appreciably cooler this time. We're staying at the Indochine I on the river near the confluence of the Tonle Sap and the Mekong. My plan is to swim in the Mekong before we leave. How could I not? The neighborhood is nicer than where our previous guesthouse was, but more expensive.

Border restaurant

Many beggars, amputees, and children selling books, etc.

This morning we went to the "Russian" market - why they call it that I don't know. Of course there are a good many beggars at all the markets. Several times since we were first in Phnom Penh Jeff and I have talked about our biggest problem with beggars: They always seem to appear when you don't have any appropriate-sized currency handy and stopping to dig the right denominations out guarantees a crowd, so often we just keep moving. The discussion was prompted by a man with a horribly burned face - a visage from hell, all scarred and running with exudate. Hands with deep burn scars too. When he appeared on our first time in Phnom Penh we were just stunned and said no and walked away. His face stayed with me ... wondering how he looked and what his life was like before the burn.

As we left the market today I gave some riel to several women carrying infants with reddish hair (= malnutrition) and as I turned to leave, there was the man with the burned face! I wonder how often anyone is happy to see him? I was. I stopped and gave him a nice gift and a blessing - for you too.

How long to sing this song?

This afternoon I saw a manifestation of the dark side of the culture that produced and nurtured the Khmer Rouge. (You didn't think these bad people simply came along from nowhere so filled with hate that they killed millions, did you? No. The reason Pol Pot enjoyed significant support [at least early on] from people from all walks of life in Cambodia was that he presented himself and his ideology as an answer to the pervasive and casual brutality, corruption, and injustice that ran through Khmer culture like the silt through the Tonle Sap.

Countryside

Not that that justifies it, but the idea that the KR came from nowhere to blight a happy innocent society is naive.) Anyway, my analysis aside, we were sitting in a restaurant (Happy Herb's Pizza) and from the restaurant next door (The Pink Elephant) a woman came out and used a thin bamboo cane to whip, hard, a 5-6 year-old child trying to sell books to customers sitting at tables on the sidewalk. Truly an ugly scene. The child left, crying, and came back in about 15 minutes. The woman did it again. I went out and gave him some riel and told him to leave, which he did. I had a pointless discussion with some European louts sitting there drinking beer and watching the show, apparently unmoved. I say European louts because, hey, they were the ones who brought nationality into the discussion. I have been pronounced a crazy American. And I'm proud of it and the beating stopped.

Yonder stands your orphan with his gun.

Later that evening we were walking along the sidewalk and came face to face with a girl, maybe 11 or 12 who had been one of the children trying to sell books at the Pink Elephant.
"Ï remember you."
"I remember you, too."
"Baby brother over there" - pointing down a dark street. We held hands for just a moment and I walked on.

Yeah, Phnom Penh is a tough place, the toughest place I've ever been - outside of combat. Tomorrow we're headed to a little town outside of the city (the reason we are here again).

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Countryside - ready to rain	Girls by the river	Khai Sreang	On the bus Saigon to Phnom Penh
Path to river	River behind Chheng's house	River life Phnom Penh

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