For our six month anniversary in Cambodia, Gordon and
I thought we would do something completely unprecedented. A joint blog.
Controversial we know and likely to lead to arguments
but we're going to give it a shot.
Things we have learned so far:
Road lessons
The majority of drivers (read, every single one I've
come across so far) have never heard of that great mantra 'mirror, signal,
manoeuvre'. Not for them checking before taking off, pulling out or overtaking.
No no. Just go for it and trust the person behind you has reactions like
lightning. We know a volunteer who's working at the National Road Safety
Department (or similar - it always raises a look of disbelief when she says it.
I don't think anyone believes it exists) and I think, if there was one thing
that I would introduce if I was there it would be 'mirror, signal,
manoeuvre'. I'm not saying it would solve all problems but it might foster a
more caring, thoughtful and considerate driving population, save some
lives/injuries therefore meaning people can still work, earn money, eat and
therefore live longer and happier lives. Just saying!
(I, Claire, am genuinely thinking about patenting
‘mirror, signal, maneouvre’. Watch this space)
 |
| on your marks, get set... |
Thankfully, the roadkill we see are mostly rats, which
get squashed with alarming (or reassuring) frequency. Given that in the UK
we’re never meant to be more than three feet from a rat (or whatever the
statistic is), one can only assume that British rats have more road sense than
Cambodian ones. Said squashed rats then lie squashed completely flat on the
road for days and days and days (identified by grey, ratty looking fur (pun
intended) with a long, thick tail sticking out). Sadly, the same is also true
when it's a little black and white kitten...
However, after six months here, cycling in the traffic
of Phnom Penh, we've also realised that, somehow, it just works. Cycling the
wrong way down streets against the flow of traffic, dodging round cars and tuk
tuks to sneak through small gaps, pushing your way through gridlock at a
crossroads - somehow it all moves along (eventually). Now we’re not saying it's
not chaos - sadly we’re sure it's a case of 'when' one of us has a bike
accident, not 'if' we have one - but it does just sort it itself out with very
little intervention. It's a marvel really. Part of this is an almost complete
lack of road rage. Part of it is that rules do exist. They mostly go - the
bigger you are the more important you are. And, if you have no licence plates,
your car beats any old beaten up bigger lorry or truck, even although said
lorry or truck could squash you. Other useful rules are, trust no one, believe
that everyone is out to get you and have eyes in the back, side and top of your
head (honestly, traffic comes at ALL angles here).
The lingo
The translation for thief is gangster. We were warned the
other night to watch our bicycles, and especially our bicycle helmets, as there
are gangsters here (in the park with all the families!). However, we've also
learned a surprising amount about our own language. It seems that Cambodians
know English grammar better than we do leading to some embarrassing moments
when a pleading Cambodian asks us to explain some tense we've never heard
of.
Hotter than the kitchen when you open the oven
A Ugandan volunteer who arrived with us really
struggled with the heat and an Ethiopian guy we know here says the heat is
unbearable in Cambodia. We're Scottish. We stand no chance. It is actually
possible to sweat more than we thought possible, including from your eyelids.
A sense of the past
On a more serious note, the people talk about the
Khmer Rouge time with surprising frankness and honesty. They generally smile
when they talk - emotions are not really shown here. We’re never sure if they
smile so as to show that they're ok talking about it, or to reassure the people
that they're telling that it's ok. It's very humbling hearing these stories.
Plus, you then realise that it wasn't 1975-79 that
Cambodia was in turmoil but that throughout the whole 1980s people were living
in refugee camps amidst civil war. And the 90s saw tanks on the streets. But I
think the really surprising thing is that the Prime Minister was
relatively high up in the Khmer Rouge as were other people who are now in
senior positions and that the Khmer Rouge still had a lot of support even after
its fall.
Heart attack on a plate (Come on, you didn’t think we
could get through a blog without talking about food at some point, did you?)
Being Scottish, we thought we were the masters at deep
frying. Not so. The range of deep fried goods here are amazing, regularly
bananas (see below) or bread-type goodies.
What is that? UMO
Unidentified Meat Object. Claire’s favourite
descriptor for all the random foodstuffs that are cooked on most street
corners. On a brighter note, the question of ‘what the heck is that’ often
pertains to fruit. There are fruits here that we have never seen or heard of.
Amazing stuff. And bananas – who knew that there were so many ways to cook
bananas?!
And there you have it. No great insights but more a
collection of thoughts that don’t quite warrant a blog unto themselves.
 |
| Gordon on his dengue fever visit to hospital, trusty drip at his side |
Neither of us can quite believe that six months has
passed so quickly. We’re having a great time (if you ignore the dengue episode
and even that is really just another story for the re-telling) and are sure our
year anniversary blog will be upon us before we know it. Thanks for sticking
with us on this folks!
