Khmer days

The days begin very early here. The Khmer are up and about by 5:30am. By the time I'm getting on my moped at 7:30am to head off to work, the hustle and bustle on the streets has been going on for a couple of hours. As we drive through town via the main streets, around the Central market and the main temple (Wat Phnom), we pass women carrying baskets of fruits on their heads, creaky bikes loaded up with wicker baskets...a moped with thirty blue plastic chairs on the back seat with the driver somehow hanging onto them with one arm as he steers with the other... kids off to school, mini-vans stacked with things, people and animals heading out to the provinces. Between 12-2pm, in the heat of the day, everybody rests and sleeps; the heartbeat of the city slows and the heat makes the air thick...it sizzles. Having now experienced the tropical heat, I'm not surprised they have the afternoon siestas - in the heat of mid-day the slightest effort leaves one thirsty and healthfully perspiring; energy is quickly depleted and movements slow down. In the afternoon (usually when I'm heading home), it rains for about an hour or two - from a light shower to an intense thunder storm. The gray clouds are heavy, looking pregnant with rain. The rain clouds look as if they are going to sweep the earth they hover above. But the cool waters of the rain and the soft wind is a refreshing welcome after the blinding sun has been at you all day.

The plants and vegetation are beautiful. I realize that I have never really experienced the tropics before. The leaves are lush, the branches wind and twist. The large leaves provide shady refuge from the sun. The palms are huge, with long thin leaves, unmanicured - which to my eyes makes them more raw therefore more beautiful. Some have bananas - small, green and in numerous bunches at the very top. The flowers have a thick, fruity, delicious smell. I love passing by them - their smell mixes in with the gas fumes, burning garbage, cooking. That is the smell of Phnom Penh.

As I become more familiar with Phnom Penh, I am struck by the various contrasts and contradictions that exist here. These contradictions are common to large cities, but here they seem to be more striking to me. There is a lightness contrasted by the despair of the people. ...Driving down Norodom Ave., large French style homes and buildings adorn the street. As we turn the corner, the family that works the newspaper stand is sleeping on the ground and in hammocks. I wonder if they ate something before falling asleep?
...As I walk around, becoming familiar with my neighborhood, I see people have set up tent-like structures along the side walk next to the gate out of which drives out a land cruiser. They squat under there these make shift shelters, in the dirt, eating rice with their hands out of a plastic bag.
...One of the ladies I work with took me to the market - she was curious about how much money people made in Canada. I tried to explain that it is relative - it's not so much how much you make it's more about how much you need to live. I don't think it made sense to her though - she earns $200 per month as an accountant and was shocked that a Canadian can make in one month what she makes in a year.
...As I drink a capaccino at a funky cafe on street 240 (just east of the Victory Monument), there are little children outside begging. As I prowl for "the good buys" at the Russian Market, a burn victim who is grossly deformed approaches me, pan handling/begging - whatever it is called. It stops me dead in my tracks, but I am quickly reminded to only give a small amount (like the Khmer do) and that if I give to one, than "all of them" will approach you. How do you justify not giving? Or giving to one but not the other? At which point to stop and start?

As a major city with a significant foreign/expat presence, I don't think Phnom Penh is a complete representation of Cambodia and it's people. I think that exists in the provinces and the jungles. My curiosity it getting the best of me and this weekend I begin to set out into Cambodia - away from the anonymous comforts of a large city and into the multi-layered heart of a country.