Mr Mao

After Tonle Sap  I head to the bank where I run into Koosh and arrange to meet him in the evening. 

I am so hungy I am about to faint, so I stop at Street no 9, near the old market, at one of  the small road side cafe/restaurants that serve good and reasonably priced food. Soon after I order another loner comes to sit at the the table opposite  to me. A group of street kids stop and start talking to both of us in every possible language you can imagine, trying to sell us cards, bracelets and writing our names down. I am in such a way introduced to Stephane Mao, who is in hysterics at my inability to say no to  these lovely children ( have been able but not tonight).

Stephane is from near Marseille and we speak in two languages enthusiastically. Well...he speaks French at me and somehow I understand him and he practices his English with me. We communicate fine.  Stephane is half Cambodian. His father is a Khmer Rouge, political refugee in France. This is a pilgrimage to his roots and to his unknown second homeland. He has come here from Thailand and will head to Vietnam and Laos. Stephane has lived in different countries including Antigue.  He is an artisans, a builder, handy man, lover of the travel, journey and people. He thinks I am a gitane (a gypsy). I tell him about how much I love Cardiff and Greece. To me roots and not severing those are very important. But I have places to go with the purpose and I would like to some of it with people I love, some of it alone, but always with a purpose.

I learn :

Je vois aller au Mali pour decouvrire fabuleux pays.

(I want to go to Mali to meet fabulous people)

So many places, so little time but what I really like about Stephane is that he is not restless. He seems equally content to stay put and I think he is a man that appreciates people, stability, connection with loved ones. He is not escaping anything. Respect!

My encounter with Stephane is an unexpected present. We talk about Argentina and tango. Perhaps we will meet there again one day? He loves to hear about the children at school, Safe ,  my life and so we jump from one subject to another joyfully, until Koosh calls me and he is ready for our drink. Oops I got carried away....

'If I stay another day and we meet tomorrow here are 7?'

'D'accord mon amie'.

We kiss good  bye and hope to meet again sooner or later.

Random observations- Part 1

The Pyjama craze      

When in Siem Reap you can’t help but notice that many women walk the streets in their... pyjamas. Pyjama clad they are on bicycles, mopeds  walking, dining, shopping , catching up. After my first few sightings I found it great that they are comfortable enough to nip out in night wear. I did not find it that strange. After all students in Cardiff do this all the time when the nip out to the local tesco for fags, eggs and bacon, right? But as the sightings continue, I realise that the pyjama craze is everywhere. At Angor Wat me and the Spanish I hooked up with interrogate tuk tuk drivers. After much research there are three possible answers:

1. Cambodian ladies want to protect their skin from the sun. White skin is idolised here. What better way to do that than wearing long sleeved pyjama tops and long trousers.
2. It is now Cambodian winter and it is cold (?!!). Therefore long sleeve pyjamas are the right clothes to wear.
3. These clothes are not pyjamas in Cambodia! They are just fashionable, colourful clothes. There is a pyjama craze in Siem Ream. 

Perhaps I should get myself a pair. What do you think?

The running man

There are some pedestrian crossings in Siem Reap. There are also some traffic lights. To cross a busy avenue in this city, you are given the green light by a figure of a running man and you better run because you have 40 seconds to  do this. There is an actual countdown next to the animated running figure of the green man. And this is not an easy feat considering that the traffic does not actually stop.

Tuk Tuk  Lady

Since my first day as a walking visitor of Siem Reap I have been wondering:

How many tuk tuk offers can a lady have in an hour?

It is easier to be a bicycle lady than a tuk tuk lady if you find it hard to say no.

The Lord of Siem Reap

I am queing at the bank on the same busy avenue where the running green traffic light man puts my life at risk. I have just walked in and I turn as I hear a familiar voice, to face Koorash. 'Fancy seeing you here Mr Koosh' I think. He is greeted by a few people. I think this man is everywhere, the Lord of Siem Reap.

Who’s the boss

The fact that Koreans frequent Cambodia as tourists became obvious to me on my flight from Seoul, when I was surrounded by a jolly crowd of excursionists. But in my first week I realise that Koreans are just everywhere. The same goes for Russians. Koreans and Russians find it acceptable to travel in groups below ten. But the Japanese ,who are next in abundance, come in groups only. They usually wear matching tourist group hats and are led by some interesting figure of a tourist guide. Aussies are also around and I have met a couple of New Zealanders as well as Spanish and Italians.  Perhaps most of the British and the Americans just stick to Pub Street, the loudest and pedestrianised street of Cambodia perhaps they are in the villages. But at a first glance Korea seems to be the boss here...

Tonle Sap song

Lakeside cafe

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The boys



Tim recognises me in the morning when I try to negotiate a tuk tuk journey to Tonle Sap with one of his colleagues. Tim is the driver that picked me up from the airport with Phalla and is willing to give me a reasonable price.  This is how it works here , if you stick to one driver they become your friend, companion, guide and they can be very protective of you. But then I am lucky because I think Tim is a nice man.

Today I am at the Tonle Sap lake. The tuk tuk journey from Siem Reap is 30 minutes. The road swivels along the river. It crosses roadside neighbourhoods and villages, as we go further away from Siem Reap. There are many huts the other side of the river and small bridges , the crossing points,  at different spots. Soon we reach rice paddy land. Humble roadside cafes with hammocks are laid out one after the other. The  landscape has changed to open space fields and vastness. Here there is low vegetation and the lusciousness of the riverside is a distant memory. Soon I can see the lake.  The temperature is rising and this is hot day but it is not unbearable. 

At the lake I have to pay an entry and boat fee for a visit to the floating village and a boat ride around the lake. This is all Government run but I am really not sure whether the young boat drivers get a good wage. My boat is number B60. My drivers are two brothers, Neht and Loih (I really think I didnt get their names right), aged 18 and 10. Tim has never been to the lake, can he come with me? This is my 6^th day in Siem Reap area and I have already seen so much it  upsets me that a local has never managed to be on a boat and visit Tonle Sap. I am happy to have him along. He can only be of help and he is a subtle and discreet man. The boat ride is a blast. The boys warm to me, they sing and tell me about the village and their family in Siem Reap. They let me ride the boat to the open lake. There we go around in circles to test my skills. We watch people fishing. We watch a fast large river boat arrive from Phnom Penh, a six hour journey , which I would have thought is more comfortable than its road equivalent.

We go past a floating school, a floating pig farm, the water treatment works, houses and cafes. This is a small floating village and the people are poor despite the constant stream of tourists. At our stop the boys and I have a cold drink. They are delightful and so much fun I am in giggles most of the time. Tim is hungry and has the strange and disgusting to me delicacy of crocodilie eggs with some chilli sauce. These are sold to the locals by approaching floating vendors.  Believe it or not I think I have discovered something I am not willing to eat. ‘They are just little’, Tim says, ‘ No problem’. I can actually see the little crocodile embryo.

On the way back,  little Loih and I sit on the bow of the boat. Earlier at the café whilst gazing at the lake he was cheerfully singing to himself. It was so beautiful.  What can I do to get him to sing again? I ask him but he shyly giggles and hides behind his hands. As I sit on the bow I break into a loud song. I sing whatever comes to mind in Greek and I turn to see his amazed face. What is this he wonders? Perhaps he is willing me to stop. But I get no other reaction than surprise; this boy is a difficult one to win over. But when I no longer have any expectations, he starts to hum and gradually raise the volume of his song. His brother joins in. For the rest of the journey, I marvel at their beautiful voices and synchronised performance.

At the lake side I am in much need of a drink. I pick roadside or lakeside cafes by the face and smile of the people working there. My next pick is quite a gem. I am greeted by a brother and sister who are from the same province as Tim but don’t know him. The owner’s English is very good and he tells me about his family. His father is now a monk in old age and is family is still at the village. He runs this café, which at the moment is swarming with locals watching some Cambodian comedy show mesmerised. This is a nice rest stop before we go back. And Tim is hungry again so he orders himself a bigger meal which he devours in a few minutes. It’s 3 pm and time to go back. I am ready for a wander in town and a quiet evening (little do I know it’s not going to a quiet one). I think I will go for a swim tomorrow.

More photos from the lake are here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/liamoutselou/FloatingVillages#

Old Market and Street No 9 children photos

Here are a few images to show you what the Old market looks like inside. A cornucopia of foods and tastes. There are mainly women here and no one  pesters me or asks me to buy anything. They just mind their own business and perhaps want me to mind my own.

I, of course,  have bought some spices which I am bringing back people: amok fish at mine soon !

More photos from the old market are here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/liamoutselou/OldMarketAndStreet9#


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