A lovely, ordinary day.

I enjoy my morning breakfast. I sit on the balcony, surrounded by green leaves. My golden chain tree is going through another process; the long green beans are now turning brown.

I wish I knew where the ants come from. Mine are minute and very fast. Every day they appear from somewhere different and scamper over various areas in the kitchen. Recently, Cina gave me a plant that is growing in water. For some strange reason the ants have decided it's a lovely environment in which to live. They scamper up and down the plant and over the surface of the glass and I have no clue what they are doing. I have to change the water regularly because I've noticed mosquitoes are laying their eggs in the water. Maybe I need to get a fish!

Srun and Sopheak came from the travel office for their daily one hour English class. Srun knows a fair amount of English. I'm not sure about Sopheak; he tends to giggle a lot and always looks at Srun for help. I thought I'd introduce them to my blog but it was a hard job getting them to understand. I showed them what it was, suggested they could use it to help with their reading, but when I asked if they wanted it or not, they both giggled. I told them they only had to add their email address, and that got more giggles. I then asked an important question, "Do you have an email address?" They didn't, so that was that.

Plastic doesn't fare well in this part of the world. I suppose the extreme heat has something to do with it. This morning I discovered water squirting merrily away from the tap servicing my washing machine. I turned off the water and saw that the tap and fittings were all cracked. I gave Srun the pieces to take over to the office and within half an hour I had a new tap. It reminded me of the plumbing work at the farm where a new shower was installed in the basement; it took weeks to have the job completed. Here, I've not noticed anyone making a booking to have anything done; you just go and the job always gets done.

I nodded off at 4.30pm, after my cup of tea. A while later I woke up and found Samnang sitting reading a recipe book. He takes great pride on being able to let himself in without my noticing. He was a bit fed up when I told him I was having left over food and so no cooking was needed. I don't like throwing food away so I decided to water down the peppery concoction he'd made and to have it as a soup. It was still fiery but now it's gone I'm hoping I won't have it repeated. His Chinese class are on hold until December so it looks as if I'll be having his company, and arguments about meals, for a while.

I'm glued to the US mid-term elections on YouTube. I can't get my head around the negativity. I listen to people I believe to be sane commentators, such as Don Lemon, Chris Cuomo and Rachel Maddox but, when I read the comments it's amazing the names they get called by right wing people. With so many people supporting Trump I wonder about the American education system - does it make an effort to create citizens who are open and fair minded?

I'm glad I'm in Cambodia as I haven't a clue what people are saying and I never watch anything involving the Prime Minister. I know corruption is everywhere and that it's dangerous to open one's mouth and criticise anyone, so I do what others do and I simply carry on with my daily life - it's much easier.

My full name is Peter Procrastinator Heyes!

Since leaving Canada for Nigeria in January 1981 I've kept a diary. It started off on a little Smith Corona manual typewriter. After a while I moved up to the IBM typewriter with the "ball" - you oldies may remember this. When I returned to Canada I bought a Mac Classic and since then I've been through various laptops and now an iPad. So my diary is all over the place.

At the moment I feel like those archaeologists who have to dig frantically to uncover things before the area is covered with cement. My early journal pages are now so faded I'm having a job reading them, so I decided I should get cracking and get them onto this iPad.

I went to the supermarket this morning. As I walked into the place two foreign ladies stared at me and smiled. My instinct was to check my fly to make sure it was closed. I had no idea why I caused this reaction. Later, when I was at the dairy counter, one of them came up to me and asked me where I came from, did I live here, how long I came for etc? She thanked me and left before I had a chance to ask what it was all about. From their accent they were from the Philippines - they are everywhere! Here they are often teachers and I have to put up with their way of teaching when I interact with the lads across the road. They've had teachers from the Philippines and so they speak English in the same way - at the speed of sound. I'm constantly telling them, "Slow down!"

I bought a can of Heinz Baked Beans and had them on toast for breakfast. I was disappointed. Have you noticed that the same thing, made in a different country, tastes very different from the taste you know? I've had that experience with chocolate and now it's beans. They were manufactured in Australia and they weren't a bit like British or Canadian baked beans.

I'm angry with the BBC. They published an article about overweight or underweight people living less than normal and they gave a link so we could find out our Body Mass Index (BMI). I'm told I'm overweight but well below the British male average for my age. If that's supposed to make me feel differently, it doesn't. How can I be overweight? I exercise and often only eat two meals a day. I don't booze or smoke and I'm definitely not into red meat in a big way. I give up! I'm going to ignore all these tests in future as it's too depressing.

Our sidewalk is being ripped up again. There must be a system or method going on but I can't figure it out. Our sidewalks are made of tiles, which I think are made of cement. They are different shapes and sizes and regularly a sidewalk is ripped up and a new one put down. The base is sand and the workers hammer the tiles into it. Then along come the cars and motorbikes that park on the sidewalk and the tiles start to wobble. No problem, in a couple of years they are ripped up and replaced. It's madness in my mind but obviously someone thinks it's a good idea.

I learn a lot listening to the BBC World Service while I'm doing my morning walking exercise. Today I learned from the USA that there's such a thing as an "Impossible Burger". This "food" is made from soya and the scientists have made is so that it "bleeds" like a regular burger. I could tell the other two commentators, from the UK and India, were ready to vomit at the thought. Apparently, it's very popular in the US. I hope it doesn't find its way here. At the moment we don't have McDonalds. The Burger King franchise is owned by the Prime Minister's daughter so I think she's keeping out the competition.

A North Korean cup of tea

I had a busy time yesterday. While I was in Canada, my iron was passed on to people using the apartment below mine. Now I can't get it back as people are still renting the unit. I've wanted to buy my own but Cina wouldn't have it; she said it was her responsibility as landlord. Just before I had breakfast she phoned to say she was off shopping with Vuth and I should join her. We went to an appliance place and got the iron plus a toaster as mine is also downstairs. We left the shop and headed home and then Cina said she wanted to go back because she'd seen a small fridge she thought would be good in her husband's office. We ended up buying the fridge plus a gadget that dispenses hot water. Pretty well everything here is from China so I was glad to see my toaster was from Thailand. Cina's quite a shopper; when we were buying the appliances she examined the watts/volts to see how much energy they used.

I thought that was my job done but when I said I was heading home I was asked if I'd go home with them so I could show Vuth how to operate the hot water gadget. Vuth's worse than I am with this kind of thing so he always makes me feel good about my own capabilities. While I was with him he made a cup of tea with the new gadget; it was tea from North Korea. I must be a rarity - a Western who has sampled tea from Pyongyang. I was impressed in that it came in neat pouches complete with bar codes. There was a date on the package and I hoped it wasn't the expiry date.

That led to having lunch with the family. I'm always amazed how they cook a meal for the 21 people in the building, which includes family, their own helpers and the staff in the travel office they own. Today there were six cooked dishes on the table plus a salad and three kinds of fruit. It's all cooked on a two ringed burner and there's no microwave. That means some of the dishes end up on the cool side but this is something that doesn't bother anyone here. Ponleu (9) joined us. He's just had four baby teeth removed. I told him to put the teeth under his pillow for the tooth fairy but he told me he'd tried it and it didn't work. I said he had to talk to the tooth fairy to make sure she came. "How can I do that when I don't know her number?" he said. I'm hoping Vuth left some money for the lad as I made a big deal of the fairy.

I left their home with two of the staff who come for a one hour conversational English class. Even though it's their lunch break they don't mind being with me and it's nice talking to them as I chat about our lives. When they left, I went to a coffee shop to meet Thornin; he helps me with the dental programmes and we met to talk about our needs for the paper work which we'll have to start before too long. He's always helping me so I decided to take him and Vuth out for dinner to a new Indian restaurant that's opened just five minutes away. Cambodia's amazing in that we can find everything we need within a ten minute walk from the apartment. We had pakoras (onion dipped in batter and deep fried), samosas, a couple of curries, butter naan, rice and a dessert, all for the princely sum of $25. There was so much food we took home enough for two more people.

Oudom (12) pestered me in the evening and I said something like, "For God's sake." He couldn't figure out, as a Buddhist, why I'd brought God into it. For six years he was at an English medium school and he was frequently taught by teachers who had a Christian missionary attitude in the classroom. He continued:

"I often pray to Jesus if I'm having a problem in school."
"What sort of problems?"
"Well, if I'm worried about an exam or if I forget my homework."
"What do you pray for?"
"I ask Jesus to make my teacher sick or I ask him to hit my teacher on the head so he forgets things. I think Jesus gets mad with me because he only hears me when I'm in trouble."

It's interesting how a 12 year old Buddhist lad has got the Christian faith figured out.

Today was yet another public holiday. I think we've had one a week for the last 3 weeks. This one was for the coronation of the previous king who has been dead for a while. It sounds totally whacky to me but the locals love a celebration and especially last night's fireworks.

Final day in Singapore

I didn't sleep so well last night. Oudom (12) admitted he'd drunk a large mug of coffee before going to bed. He was like a demented octopus. He couldn't lie still; his legs and arms were all over the place. His head was also full of questions, "If a country invaded Britain would NATO come to help?" "What is the European Union?" "Why is Britain leaving the EU and what does Brexit mean?" With Oudom it's not possible to say, "I don't know", so the talk went on for ages.

Breakfast again was instant noodles sitting on the end of the bed. I thought our next job would be to leave for the airport but it wasn't to be - we were off to see the Merlion. I've never seen it but the children were super excited. Once again we needed three taxis. It's quite a challenge in Singapore because the authorities don't like people flagging a taxi; if you do, you pay a $3.50 surcharge. The proper way of getting a taxi is to either book or to go to an official taxi stand. The one we went to was next to a Hindu temple. The ceremony was coming to an end so people were coming out and looking for their shoes. About 100 metres of the pavement were covered with shoes and I doubt if anyone steals a pair. Men walked by, barefoot, with splashes of colour on their forehead. Women were in saris, salwars and other brightly coloured outfits.

It took a while to get to the Merlion because many roads had been closed. I'm told this is a regular feature of a weekend in Singapore, when roads are closed so that people can ride bicycles on them; not just bicycles but strange contraptions such as little scooters, three wheelers and single wheeled things on which the rider balances and just leans in different directions. It looked a fun time but it definitely pushed up our taxi bill. Merlion is a large, cement structure with a lion's head and a mermaid's body. Water comes out of its mouth like a fireman's hose. Throngs of people were taking photos and selfies. I couldn't care less so I leaned against a railings. I didn't stay there for long as a lady came along and told me to move as she wanted her photograph taken. It took a long time and, if anyone else ventured into their territory, they heard, "Excuse me!" The place tickled me because it looked like an evangelic rally gone wrong with so many hundreds of people raising their hands to the heavens. They were actually trying to have a photograph taken looking as if they were catching the water. I was glad when we left.

Back at the hotel we grabbed our bags and left for the airport. While waiting outside for the taxi I saw a man walking along wearing real cowboy boots. What was odd was the fact that he wore a very flimsy dress, with a bright floral pattern, that came to just above his knees. He hadn't made any attempt to make his face feminine; in fact he was quite a masculine man. I seemed to be the only one taking any notice of him. The trees lining the boulevard to the airport looked like a scene from Harry Potter. They were old and gnarled and their boughs twisted all over the place. I was impressed with our taxi driver; after we all got out, he searched the vehicle to make sure we hadn't left anything.

I had a bit of a problem checking in as the machine wouldn't accept my passport. I went to the counter and the lady asked me for my ticket from Phnom Penh to Singapore; I told her I'd chucked it away. Then she muttered something about needing a visa so I reminded her it was in my passport. Then she leaned over to her friend and said something; her friend said, "It's OK, it's only October!" She must have been talking about my visa which expires in December. Once I got past her, it was plain sailing and a lovely experience. I put my passport in a slot and doors opened magically. I walked a bit further and I was told to put my thumb on something and another door opened. I found myself in the concourse without having to undress; I then learned it would be done at the gate.

I decided to sit and write a letter but the boys kept bugging me. Samnang (14) managed to delete my letter so he ran off. I gave them heck and they disappeared for a while. I asked a couple of Germans if they'd like some extra children; they laughed and said, "No thank you!"

On the plane I sat opposite three very chatty young American ladies. There's something about certain voices that gets on my nerves, and one of them in the group was a prime example. She never shut up. When the plane landed she made a very profound statement, "I need my eyebrows waxed real bad". I felt like telling her it should be "badly" but I decided to get away from her as I'd been listening to her going on for over 1 1/2 hours. Guess who was behind me in the passport queue, and she still hadn't shut up. I'm going to have to Google eyebrow waxing!

It was a relief to be back in Cambodia with its simpler lifestyle and traffic jams. Back in the apartment I did my usual job after a trip, unpacking, undressing and shoving everything in the washing machine. I walked up the road and got some bread for breakfast and then I settled down for a quiet evening. The phone rang. It was Vuth telling me he was going to a Suki Soup restaurant with his wife and Meakara, a travel agent in their office. I said, "Good for you". He said come on, you're coming too. He sensed I was a bit reluctant and so he said the magic words - "It's just us with no kids!" It was great being able to relax and not worry about keeping an eye on four kids. Now I'm home and hoping the phone doesn't ring. Tomorrow I have to shop for an iron and a toaster; I had both but they ended up in the downstairs apartment.

Singapore with a sore head

Here's the composition of the group I'm travelling with: 8 ladies, 4 men, 2 young teenagers, one 9 year old and 3 children under 5 years of age. It's a huge challenge keeping things under control and not losing anyone. There was no set plan for Singapore so people are deciding what to do as we move through the day. Generally, the men have left it up to the women.

I've been practising flexibility again. Yesterday I left home at 5pm and we finally set off for the airport at 6.30pm. We could have left earlier but Vuth disappeared; apparently he'd developed diarrhea and wanted medicine. No sooner were we in the rickshaw when Cheata (3 years) decided she wanted a pee. We sang, "I love you, you love me", to take her mind off things. The airline provided absolutely nothing on the plane so it was good it was only a 1 1/2 hours flight. I'm glad it was short as a rather rotund lady behind me kept shoving her knees into my back. If I'd been travelling alone I would have been in the hotel bed by 1am but with the group it took until after 2am.

We checked in at Hotel 81 and, when I opened the door to go into my room I banged into the bed. I've been in small rooms in Vietnam and Amsterdam but this beats all of them. This one is 2m x 3m with a double bed. There's an enormous mirror to make the room appear bigger but it didn't fool me. There's no wardrobe, just four hooks on the wall. It's very clean and the beds comfortable but I have to breathe in when Oudom goes by. The mattress is covered with plastic so I'm wondering if they think I have a bladder problem. The hotel serves no breakfast so the folks had brought lots of containers of instant noodles and breakfast was spent sitting on our beds. We were in the centre of China Town. I had a vision of lots of narrow streets, with the dominant colour being red, but it's just like any other modern city and the only hint of Chinese, as far as I can see, is the street names in English and Chinese.

Managing the underground was quite a challenge as Cheata had never experienced escalators and screamed her head off. Her parents decided to take her on the elevator and so we constantly had problems connecting for the next step. The lads grumbled that their parents always told them not to get lost but they said their parents were constantly getting lost. I had no idea where we were going; I joined the men and just followed the women. We ended up on Sentosa Island. 20 years ago I'd been there and it was a green place but now it's another built up area with expensive attractions. For me it's a training ground for those heading for purgatory.

I checked out the attractions and decided the only thing I didn't mind seeing was the aquarium. Most people were heading for Universal Studios but the $78 price ticket put us off. I love watching fish but not when there's as many people as at a football match, armed with cameras and dragging children along. I survived an hour and then I needed a bit of peace and quiet outside.

If it hadn't been so hot I'd have loved to have just sat there, watching people. There was quite an eclectic crowd; there were even Hindu holy men and Buddhist monks. Young ladies wore skirts that were daringly short; in contrast were Muslim women covered in black, wearing gloves and socks and an eye slit just enough to allow in the light. As usual I couldn't get over the amount of tattooing being done on people - it must be a multi billion dollar industry. One fashion trait seemed to be having both knees tattooed; I can't think of anything more painful.

I found a quiet place to sit but it didn't last long as a chap sat next to me and started to watch a Kung Fu type movie on his mobile device. Another man sat by me and started to smoke. I was glad to move on when the rest of the group appeared.

We relaxed in the hotel and in the evening five of us set off to have a walkabout. The rest of the group were fast asleep. I stand corrected, there is a China town but I don't think anyone lives in it; it's full of shops selling traditional medicines and strange food, souvenir shops and restaurants. We bought a bag of roasted chestnuts and wandered around a bit. We found a restaurant and had an excellent meal. Having listened to the programme on tipping in the West, I couldn't help noticing that the staff in our restaurant were on the move non-stop but with a cheerful smile and obviously enjoying their work without the thought of a single dime in tips. Cina ordered rice and a tiny bowl arrived. She thought they'd bring rice for all of us. She gestured to a waiter that we needed four more bowls and he came back with four empty bowls; presumably we were going to share the one bowl of rice. He finally realised he was talking to some serious rice eaters and we did get our five bowls. The air conditioning was so cold and strong I felt like asking for a seatbelt to keep me in place.

Back at the hotel I was ready to collapse but my room was invaded by Oudom (12) and Samnang (14). They've been to a nearby 7/11 for something to eat and now the Khmer folk are enjoying a party in another room. I think they'll leave me alone for the rest of the evening.

Trying to get ready for Singapore

I woke up around 1.30am wondering why the fan on my air conditioner had turned on full pelt; I then realised it was thunderous rain. I live on the top floor of this building and, instead of a ceiling, I'm exposed to the roof and this means I hear every drop of rain. I dashed outside to remove the cushions from my deck furniture and then settled back to sleep. The man, who said the rains would end on the 23rd, was obviously wrong.

I had to go over to Cina Travel this morning to read a document from IATA - that's the international organisation to which many travel agents belong. It gives them the right to issue tickets rather than to have to deal with other agencies. Cina and Vuth said they had trouble with the wording of the document. I didn't have the same problem but my problem was not understanding what they were on about. It was very legalistic and not at all easy to understand. IATA headquarters is based in Montreal and I presume the writers of these letters are native English speakers and often trained in legal matters. They don't seem to realise that many travel agents, in other parts of the world, are not native English speakers. So why can't IATA write in simple, easy to understand English?

At 10.30am I was told by Vuth to come down as we had to go to meet Sim Vathanak; he's a friend I've not seem for about 10 years. In the old days we stood on the street, flagged down a tuk tuk and discussed the price. Now we go to an app on our phones and a vehicle appears. We normally have a rickshaw as they hold just two or three people. There's no arguing about price and the app even tells us personal details about the driver and where he is presently located, plus how long it'll take for him to reach us. It's all very high tech.

We had a drink and chat but when Vuth paid the bill Vathanak objected. He said he hadn't seen me for a long time and we hadn't finished our conversation. We therefore decided to stay for pizza. Back home I was told to relax until 3pm and to then be ready to visit Kolap, who is getting married. We were supposed to attend a ceremony today but that's been cancelled until tomorrow and so I'll miss it. I'm not fussed about missing the ceremonies as I now find them excruciating, because of having to sit for ages between each little ceremony. At 2.30pm Vuth phoned to tell me to relax. He has an outside job to do so we aren't going anywhere. It's absolute flexibility all over again. So now I'm waiting until 5pm for our trip to the airport. Let's see if anything changes.

Relaxing blog

Before I left Battambang yesterday I bought a tub of ice cream for Thornin, Serey and little Lee Ann.  I tucked in too - that's my knee in the photo.

It had rained heavily during the night so I had to mop the two balcony floors.  There's no point in stopping there so I continued to wash the whole apartment floor.  It always looks clean but, when I look at the soles of my feet, I can tell it isn't.  It rained again in the afternoon and water poured down my drain spout onto the balcony, flooding it in no time.  It's amazing how many times it gets washed.

I did my morning walking listening to the BBC World Service.  It's amazing how much I learn.  I didn't know that nowadays, especially in North America, patrons in coffee shops, restaurants etc are being asked to add a tip when they order something.  This is even before they've had any service from the staff.  One American lady said she was upset with the service in one place so she only gave a 10% tip.  When she was asked how much she'd tip if she'd had good service, she said 22%.  The journalist listening in from New Delhi was flabbergasted she'd even pay 10% when the service was bad.  The American lady said that tipping started in the English tea and coffee houses.  On the wall was a box for donations.  On the box was written, "To insure promptness".  In other words TIP.  I'm glad I'm in Cambodia where nobody expects a tip.

I've just had word from Canada that four more dental workers will be coming in January so that puts the number at 14.  This year we had only two dentists but next year there'll be six which means we have to find places with enough patients.  It's now that time of year when I start to panic about the paper work.  As usual, Thornin will say, "Relax and trust me".  The trouble is he doesn't realise that we Westerners need to know what's happening.

After eating, Samnang settled down with a book but then his mother phoned to send him home as he needed to go to Chinese class.  He and his two brothers hate it but his parents got fed up with them sitting in the office playing on the computers.  They keep asking me to talk to the parents to get them to cancel the classes but it's not working.  Oudom says he's not learning anything.  When it's exam time he wears long trousers and writes things on his leg - he then goes to the toilet a few times during the exam.

I thought I had the evening to myself and then I was called to go to a nearby coffee shop to meet "three lovely ladies".  They turned out to be friends who are organising a youth exchange programme with young Thais.  It'll be in November and they want me to go.  The Thais tend to look down on the Cambodians and they lay claim to Angkor Wat and the temple area.  There's even a large model of Angkor Wat in the royal palace grounds in Bangkok and we are told it's there until they get the real thing back.  They forget that years ago Thailand was conquered by the Khmer.  It's interesting how, in our history, we tend to only remember the times when we were great.  They'll go by bus from here but there's no way I'm doing that; I've had enough of land border crossings.

I think Canadians will be altering their clocks in a few days time.  Here we are like Saskatchewan; we don't change.  Year round it gets dark between 6.30pm and 7pm.

I need to do some ironing but during the summer my iron ended up with the new people downstairs.  Cina won't let me buy one but she's too busy to do any shopping.  I have to have something for the wedding on Friday and for my Singapore trip.  Maybe I'll adopt the crumbled look.

Prohok

I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that I shouldn't do any big shopping trips to the supermarket. I push the cart around, shoving items into it that I think I'm going to eat, but then they end up sitting in the fridge and slowly ageing. It's because Cina and Vuth, who live across the road and are my landlords, constantly phone over to invite me for lunch. I try to wiggle out of it sometimes but they won't have it. It's always interesting food and totally different to what I've have outside. Today was no exception. I was introduced to mother's prohok (that's how the word sounds). For some strange reason it's called Cambodian cheese. The dad said, "In Europe you eat a lot of cheese; here we eat a lot of prohok", so that's maybe why it's called 'cheese'.

At other times I've eaten prohok in commercial establishments but this was made by mother, and daughter Cina vouched for its quality. It's quite a challenge as it has a strong, unusual flavour which is mainly due to the way it's made. Mother makes sure she buys the best fish and she puts them in a large earthenware pot, along with salt and spices, to ferment. Her prohok is then mixed with minced pork and other ingredients. It's not touched for a year so you can imagine that the smell is a bit of a challenge.

There's no way I can refuse to eat it as dollops are put onto my plate and then I'm given a demonstration on how to eat it. We have to pile rice onto the spoon, along with the prohok and some greenery. It helps in a way to reduce its potency. I tried to get rid of my dollop in one go but Vuth took have of it off the spoon and so I had to eat two spoons full. It didn't stop there either as even more was put onto my plate because I agreed when I was asked if it was yummy.

I've never known a people eat so much fruit; it's on the table at every meal. For lunch we had oranges; the green variety. Some are eaten by being peeled while others have a circle cut into the skin at the top and then the fruit is squeezed to get out all the juice. Cina, who is one of the slimmest people on the planet, ate six of them.

Earlier, I'd promised young friends that I'd give them a party for all the work they did clearing out the house before we handed it over to the new people. A group was created on "Messenger" and ideas went back and forth. When I left the house I thought it was finalised as a pizza party but we ended up at a soup place. About 10 of us were there and they had hired a room equipped with karaoke. We had our own waitresses, who kept bringing in food on small trays, and this was added to a large pot of broth sitting on a hot plate. There are noodles, thin slices of meat and fish, shrimps, mushrooms, greens, various noodles, dumplings, corn and various other foods. I can never eat more than two or three bowls but the skinny Khmer go on merrily eating.

While we ate, the microphone was passed around so people could sing whatever came on the screen. Towards the end the chairs were put away and the dancing started. Because people are so busy, inviting them out for a meal is a sure way of having time together. I heard about upcoming weddings and the fact that Sreypov has been chosen to go to Japan for two months of nursing training; she works for a Japanese hospital in Phnom Penh and on her return it will mean promotion for her. When we left, Sotheavy mentioned to me that Singapore has great chocolate so I presume she wants me to bring some back when I go tomorrow.

Opening Ceremony for the Centre for Peace and Conflict Studies

One of the stained glass windows at the centre

Today is one of the biggest national holidays in Cambodia.  It's the anniversary of the signing of the Paris Peace Accord, which brought peace to the country.  In most parts of Cambodia it's the start of the trials for the provincial dragon boat races.  Boats come from all over the province to a provincial river where they compete for the chance to paddle, in front of the king, in the national championships in November which are held in Phnom Penh.  There's a variety of boats; the biggest carry around 75 paddlers.  It's not so bad if you fall off in the river in Battambang as it's fairly shallow at this time of year, but it's a different matter in Phnom Penh, especially as the boats don't stop to pick up the drowning comrade.

Last night I was told I'd be picked up this morning at 7am to leave for the opening ceremony of the museum.  I received a phone call at 6.30am telling me to come down to the restaurant for breakfast.  I was so stuffed from last night I couldn't be bothered but the Khmer ordered a big meal and one man even ordered two dishes; where they put it I don't know. 

The opening ceremony involved speeches from various people and this was followed by a video of interviews with various people talking about the war and how they survived.  There was a ribbon cutting ceremony by monks and dignitaries and then everyone followed the monks through the various rooms as they sprinkled holy water.  One building has beautiful stained glass windows but, when you look closely, you see they depict scenes from the time of the Khmer Rouge.  In another building are photographs of famous people, along with their stories,  who are working to bring change to Cambodia.  I have met Kasie who shared a story of how he was imprisoned, pretending he was a taxi driver rather that a government official - if the soldiers had found out he would have been killed.  While he spoke he removed his socks and showed us the shackles around his ankles. 

To raise money they have also got lovely bungalows that can be rented.  At the moment they are fully booked up for quite a while.  The main attraction is being able to kayak down the river.  The name of the place is interesting, "The green orange".  In this part of the world there's an orange that stays green.  The skin is firmly attached to the fruit so one has to peel it with a knife.  It's super juicy and far better than the orange coloured variety.  Whenever people come to Battambang province they go home laden with oranges; we were no exception as Cina and Vuth bought 500+ of them - they'll share them with family and friends.  We can get the same oranges from Thailand and Vietnam but people are wary of them because of the chemicals that are used in those countries.  Before we left the centre we were given a gift, this lovely looking cookie.  I couldn't bring myself to eat it so I gave it to a friend.  The lotus is the symbol for the centre. 

As I'm doing this, there's a couple of dove type birds doing what is most likely a mating dance.  They are in the tree by my balcony.  I'm also cooking a curry for dinner and I was flabbergasted when I read the label on the bottle of lemon juice - Product of Canada.  I thought the only thing we could find from Canada, outside the country, was oil and gas.  They don't have lemons here although they do call a lime a lemon.

Flexibility reared its head again.  We were to go to Vuth's parents for lunch but we set off in a different direction.  Someone had got another idea - we'd have lunch at a tourist resort.  This meant sitting on a mat, on a bamboo platform, overlooking a lake.  I always head for the hammock as there's no way I'm going to be curled up on a mat for a couple of hours.  The usual food at these places is fried frog with ginger, various types of chicken dishes and a soup.  Afterwards we set off for Vuth's parents to pick up the oranges and for me to go to my place and pack my suitcase so we could head for Phnom Penh.  It was already after 2pm so it meant that part of the drive would be in the dark.  I hate travelling in the dark in Cambodia as it's nerve wracking.  Vehicles in front often have no tail lights on, motorbikes swerve all over the place.  Oncoming trucks often have brightly coloured neon lights on the front which blind drivers.   In the old days there were no toilets along the highway but now we have gas stations with coffee shops and clean toilets but there's often still the need to answer the call of nature in the countryside.  For about four hours the sky lit up with lightning but nothing happened until we reached the outskirts of Phnom Penh and then the heavens opened.  At the opening ceremony we were told the 23rd is the last day of the rainy season so lets see what happens.  It took almost 7 hours to drive the 217 km!

I was glad to get home; no supper, just a hot shower for a change and off to bed.  I'm hoping I don't have to be flexible for a few days. 

Serendipity

This morning I happened to walk to the restaurant for breakfast and I bumped into an American man who had just finished eating. “What are you doing in this backwoods part of town; most tourists are in the centre?” I told him I wasn’t a tourist and that I’d been coming since 2002. Dr. Ray turned out to be the co-founder and President of the new Dewey University. He joined us and mentioned that he wanted his students to do social work along with their studies so I told him he’d come to the right place. I mentioned that we gave money for six young adults to study English at a nearby centre and they agree to come to the restaurant every evening, from Monday to Friday, to teach English to around 100 young children. I also told him that Thornin had worked with another university to take students to a very poor area to give food to the local people. He got really excited and the upshot was that Thornin and I have to go to the university on Monday to talk to more than 100 students.

Some of you may have heard Chamnan’s story. He’s a friend whose wife died, while giving birth to a healthy daughter. I believe the hospital staff caused Sola to end up totally paralysed and unable to communicate or feed herself. She needed 27 bags of blood which had to be repaid by Chamnan. His 8 year old daughter, Tin Tin, had to be with her mother for the seven months, in her grandparents’ home, until she died and so it’s been very traumatic for her. She came to the restaurant with her dad and he said she speaks at home but nowhere else. He tried to get her to talk but she wouldn’t. Then he left and went to talk to someone else and lo and behold Tin Tin started to chat. I’ve known her since she was a baby so maybe she felt comfortable. She’s very good in English and I told her I liked the way she spoke because she did it carefully and slowly. When her dad came back she let him know that I’d said her English was better than his - in some ways it is too. Sadly, the baby has to be with his wife’s parents, which isn’t the best situation as it’s far away. I’m hoping he finds a way of bringing his daughter home.

In the afternoon a bunch of lads came to use the swimming pool. The family charges them 50 cents each if they come from families but it is free if the children come from an orphanage. The family have a large basket of t-shirts and shorts for the kids to use. In Canada there’s such an emphasis on safety so this situation wouldn’t be tolerated. Here, nobody worries about insurance, having a lifeguard etc. The kids just change and remain in the shallow end. In the heat of the day it’s a lovely way to cool off and I often just sit in the water, up to my neck; it’s even better than a cold shower.

Speeches, haircut and other things

I’m a 150% introvert (which most people say is a lie but it’s perfectly true) and Thornin is the exact opposite.  He gets his energy from being with people whilst I can often feel drained if I’m with too many.  The idea of talking to over 100 young people was therefore something that did not tickle my fancy but duty called.  When I’m asked to speak I try to put thoughts together on paper and then I either forget the paper or veer off the topic.  So nowadays I prefer to wing it.  I had to give a title for our time together so I said, “Learning from your mistakes” - seeing as I’ve made plenty of them I should be able to fill half an hour.

I do warm up, once I get started, and Thornin and I always have fun together.  I also talked about filling our personal backpacks with all the problems we haven’t dealt with - family issues, worries etc.  I think it went down well; I didn’t see anyone sleeping.  I haven’t a clue what Thornin talked about as it was in Khmer but, as usual, he had people in stitches and that just gets him going even more.  I was promoted to “Professor” and we both received a gift in a formal ceremony - a traditional scarf which I’ll end up giving to some lucky person.  We were even invited back, which is a good sign.

Next stop, haircut.  For me, having a haircut is as painful as going to the dentist.  It looks fine when I leave the building but the next day I’m totally fed up with it.  The instructions to the barber are always in Khmer so I have no idea what’s been said.  My coping skill is never to look in the mirror!  One old dear, sitting and waiting for her turn, said, “How old are you?”  I’m so used to it I don’t find it in the least bit offensive.  I remember in my early days in India I always used to say I had a family when I was asked if I had one.  I would say my parents were dead but I had brothers and sisters.  “No, no!  Do you have children?”  They never asked if I had a wife!  One day I decided to get it right and so I told my young taxi driver that I didn’t have a family.  He looked at me through the rear view mirror and thought for a moment; “So what’s your problem?”  I told him I didn’t know I had one.   This particular barber is not talkative; he just gets on with the job.  I ended up with a haircut, shaved with a cutthroat razor and my nose hairs removed - all for the huge sum of $1.25.

Thornin’s 3 year old son goes to a day care place that’s run by a Christian church.  He likes the place because they learn for half the time and play games the rest of the time.  He speaks a little English now.  He came home and said, “Daddy, Jesus is dead!”  Thornin asked him where Jesus was and he said, “Jesus is everywhere.”  I’m one of those who prefers to leave people’s faiths alone so I hope Lee Ann grows up to know about Christianity but be a good Buddhist.

Vuth and Cina had invited me to a special event in the evening.  It was a dinner that cost $100 per person.  It was a fundraiser in aid of a new Cambodian Peace Museum which aims to educate people about war and how to maintain peace.  Only 32 people were invited and I’m glad there were no more as the place was packed.  Earlier, I was told I’d be picked up at 4.30pm but later, when I was dressed up in my finery and standing at the gate, I was told it was to be 6.30pm.  This entire trip has been one of flexibility and patience.  I was picked up and plonked myself on their hotel bed until we left for the dinner.  We first went to a trendy bar for a pre dinner cocktail and there I chatted mostly to the Swedish Ambassador who seemed a very humble person.  Before we marched off down the road to the restaurant, we all lined up for a group photo; as usual half my head is poking out at the back of the group.

The meal was one of those times when everything was a feast for the eyes as well as a lovely taste.  We started with Amuse-bouche Green Mango and Sun-dried Cherry Tomato Relish.  For me it was a dollop of something spicy on two thin slices of unripe mango; nice though.  We moved onto eggplant dumpling, corn fritter and calamari; each thing resting on a leaf.  The soup came in a bowl made from a coconut shell - Tum kai which is shrimp coconut soup.  The main course was turmeric chicken with potato and coconut sambar, which is an Indian thing.  Dessert was coconut pannacota and season fruits with lime chilli sugar.  I can never understand why Asians put sugar in their soups and enjoy chilli with their fruit.  There was a waiter with each table and he was very attentive, constantly asking if we wanted more wine!  All in all it was a lovely way to end the day, and for a worthy cause too.

Back to my first home in Cambodia

Dish washing, Cambodian style

I had a reasonable sleep because I got smart - I folded the mat and quilt and ended up being a bit further away from the tiled floor.  It rained heavily so that kept me awake for a while.  The house was quiet when I finally got off the bed but some members of the family had stayed as they had to lock up after we left.  Auntie was busy looking in the mirror, checking something on her head.  Ratha went over to help.  I thought he was looking for lice but it turned out it was grey hairs, which Auntie plucked out when he found one. 

After a Thai noodle breakfast we dropped off auntie and a friend at the border as they wanted to go into Thailand to a market.  The area now has 20 casinos which are popular with the Thais as no gambling is allowed in that country.  Apparently, if the police find a deck of cards in your suitcase they can charge you.  Gambling is also illegal in Cambodia, but who cares?

When I first crossed the border in 2002 we were dropped off on the Thai side, after travelling on a good road, and had to walk across the border dragging our suitcases.  The road on the Cambodian side was broken, full of potholes, dust everywhere and bridges destroyed.  We were met by a man who told us to put our suitcases in the back of the truck.  Violeta objected and said that she didn't want to be separated from her suitcase. The man said, "You won't be separated; you are travelling in the back of the truck."  Four hours later, with sore backsides and covered with dust, we arrived in Battambang.

The highway had improved over the years but now it's back to being a mess because it's being widened to four lanes by a Japanese company.  How people are living along the highway I don't know - the diggers have gone down two metres and it's a sea of mud because of the rain.  Homeowners have little bridges crossing the ditch - just wide enough to allow them to take their motorbikes across.

When I first came here I decided to rent a small house so that young students could have a place to stay.  It cost $20 a month and it was not nice.  The floor was packed dirt and we had to climb a simple ladder to the sleeping area.  I stopped getting excited when a rat wandered into the place.  One day I had to chase a snake out with the broom.  When an Australian stayed with us he said he needed toilet paper.  He left the toilet roll in the toilet and went to use it the next day.  The entire middle of the roll had disappeared; it had been eaten by termites.  To use the toilet we had to open a rickety door and step up a metre onto a cement platform.  We men, if we were having a pee, could look over the wall and have a chat with people in the room.  One day I pushed the door to leave the toilet and the whole door disintegrated - it too had been demolished by termites.  Every day we taught a bunch of local children and once a month we cooked a meal for street kids - life was fun and not at all complicated.

I'm now settled into my regular room with friends who own a restaurant.  As soon as I arrive I'm asked, "What do you want to eat?"  There are no menus so I have to discuss what kind of noodles I want, or do I want rice? What do I want with the noodles - shrimp, fish, pork, beef, chicken?  My mind can't deal with all the choices so I ended up having a simple soup.

The family's building an annex to the restaurant so I ended up helping them assemble the fans and hanging them from the ceiling.  It's hot work in the 35C weather.  Rain did come but it didn't last long.

Tonight I sleep on a real bed - it's a camp cot type of bed, with a mosquito net but at least the mattress is 5 cms thick, which is like heaven.

The family ceremony

I can't say I slept much during the night. For me, a mat that is less than a centimetre thick isn't conducive to deep sleep; I always wake up when I have to move so I can reposition myself carefully. The local folk woke up before 5am to start doing the cooking and then I was called to breakfast around 7am - left over fish and rice from yesterday's dinner. It's amazing what these people, doing the cooking, can do with food on open flames sitting outside in the driveway.

The family set up everything for the five monks who would be coming at 9am. Special pillows for their backsides and backs, gifts, bags of cut up vegetables, dozens of bottles of drinking water and soft drinks, their begging bowls filled with cooked rice. They'd make sure they were back in the pagoda before noon so the food could be cooked and shared with those living there. The deceased dad's shrine had been cleaned up and incense was burning. Monks always look solemn when they walk in; they don't acknowledge anyone and don't smile. I asked Ratha if I could sit at the back on the sofa but my request was denied. Normally, I'm plonked on the front row and it's excruciating for my legs, having to sit on the floor with my feet pointing backwards. I usually end up propping myself up with one hand as I tend to flop sideways. When I have to put both hands together to pray I tend to collapse into a heap. This time Ratha brought me a tiny stool which saved my dignity.

The lead monk had a sense of humour and, during what may have been a sermon, he kept smiling and had people laughing. One young monk, who was about 15 years old, looked like a portly Friar Tuck; he sat sipping soft drinks while the others were looking solemn. The whole thing went on for one and a half hours. When the monks left, a table was set up for a short Chinese style ceremony. The table was covered with food, which is a special meal for the deceased, and we stood around, holding incense sticks while a man said something. When that was over all hell broke loose. People broke into laughter, chased each other around poking people in the ribs and grabbing them in their ticklish areas. The family sat on the floor with a pile of money that sometimes ended up being thrown into the air. I asked what it was for and was told that it will go to a poor pagoda in a rural area where the monks get very little from the local population as the people are so poor. I was told that rural monks, during 3 months of the rainy season, don't go out of the pagoda to beg for food and so people have to take them things to eat. It's altogether a different kettle of fish to what happens in Christian monasteries where the monks look quite well off.

The family had been cooking outside, on charcoal, since around 6am so I think they were happy when we finally settled down to eat. Cambodian tables are covered with dishes as there are so many tiny dishes for the various sauces, bowls for soup (which is at every meal), plates for rice and other foods. When the area was cleared the folks settled down to washing the huge amount of dishwashing and others got together for a serious game of cards. I've been watching this same game for about 17 years and I still can't figure it out. One of the things you must do when playing card games, checkers, chess etc., is to slam things down on the table so hard they make a loud noise. With cards, it's always gambling and the people put money under the mat; why they have to hide it I don't know.

Practicing absolute flexibility and patience

This is yours truly with Ratha at his mother's home. He provided me with a kid's chair and desk to do this report. My sister Pauline says that all old men should keep their clothes on. I can see it if they are in chilly England but I am not going to apologise to those who object to bare skin; it's a coping skill I've learned since coming to Cambodia. The man downstairs looks worse than I do!

Today's the day to join Ratha on his trip to Poipet to join family members for the 3rd anniversary of their father's death. Buddhism has some interesting thoughts on death. In Cambodia people die but they don't know they are dead for seven days and so a second ceremony is held at that time. I don't know if it's to celebrate the fact that the deceased has come to his or her senses or some other spiritual aspect of dying. I got up at 5.45am and Ratha told me to wait for him on the street at 6.30am; he finally arrived at 7.50am. A truck, loaded with vegetables, was parked in front of his gate so he couldn't get his car out, and he couldn't find the drivers. I could have gone home but I would have had to cart my suitcases with me and climb the four flights of stairs to the apartment.

We had breakfast in Phnom Penh at Brown's Coffee, which is a local company owned by four young Cambodian men. I had Eggs Benedict and it was delicious. Ratha and his brother, Savon, thought I should have somewhere to put my tea while I was sitting in the back of the car. He turned around to check but there was nowhere to put it. We continued along for a few minutes and then a policeman jumped into the road and waved us over. Ratha opened the window and then a five minute shouting match ensured between my two friends and the policeman. Savon kept pointing to me in the back; I had no clue what the problem was. Ratha presented his license and insurance and the ranting went on. Finally, we were allowed to continue. It turned out that a policeman up the road had noticed Savon turning around and had decided he wasn't wearing his seatbelt - which he actually was wearing. The police are very crafty; they spread themselves out along the road and call to another man ahead, using a walkie talkie, to stop cars and hopefully to get a bribe from them.

We left the restaurant at 9am and arrived in Battambang at 1.30pm where we had noodle soup and then we paid a visit to Ratha's father in law's clinic where Ratha's daughter was staying with family members. The clinic has six simple beds and four of them were occupied by small children who were all on saline drips. The BBC once wrote that Cambodia is the place where the people love the needle because the drip comes with it. Medical care for the poor is so basic and often the drip, or simple medication, is the only option. Generally, the children are just suffering from a fever but the parents are terrified of losing the child so they rush to a clinic. I've seen people taking their baby home on the back of a motorbike with mother holding the saline bottle up in the air.

The road to Poipet, on the Thai border, is being widened to four lane and I feel sorry for the people living along it. Often it's being widened right up to the house door. Dust is everywhere and the deep trenches have filled with water because of the daily rains. If I lived there I'd go on holiday until the road was finished. On the way, Ratha pointed out where his dad was killed. He's been on the front seat of a public vehicle, travelling in the night; the driver went straight into the back of a parked truck that had no lights on it. We were greeted at Ratha's mother's home by lots of relatives and I was shooed upstairs to relax on a thin mat covered with a quilt that was a little bit thicker - that's where I'll be sleeping tonight. I thought I was returning tomorrow but now I've learned that I'm staying two nights.

We sat on mats, on the floor, and enjoyed a meal of various kinds of fish and duck. Often the duck is tough but this was tender and delicious with the plum sauce. The daily temperature is around 35C so it was nice to go for a walk after dinner. I'll be sharing the mat with others so I hope nobody snores as I forgot to bring my earplugs.

Business Network International - BNI

Vuth asked me to go with him to the weekly meeting of BNI. It's an international organisation which started in the USA. The idea seems to be to bring business people together so they can get to know each other, learn about ways of running a business, supporting each other etc. There are around a dozen chapters in Phnom Penh because each chapter can only have one representative from each occupation. Vuth is the lone travel agent and so he benefits because BNI people book flights through his office.

I had to leave the house at 6.30am so I needed a cuppa when I arrived at the Cambodiana Hotel. I helped raise the average age quite a bit as I don't think anyone was over 40 years of age. They looked very Western in their black suits and ties. One thing that always tickles me is that men in this part of the world wear short ankle socks and so they are always showing a lot of leg when they sit down. I was given a laminated sheet of the 20 different activities that take place each week and a dentist was supposed to translate for me; most of the time he forgot so I had to sit with a bemused look on my face. At one point I had to stand up to be introduced and then to get up again to say what I did in life. Later I had to say what I thought of the meeting; that was hard to do when I understood very little. I told them this and said I could sense a lot of enthusiasm in the group which got an applause.

It's definitely run on American lines with a ra-ra type event at the beginning to wake people up. They were very strict with time and there were two timekeepers; one man raised his fingers to show the minutes and a lady handled the bell. At one point members stood up and told the group how many people they'd referred during the week and how much business it had generated. This week they said around $150,000 of business had been created through the network so I presume it's working. At the meeting I learned that what lies in front of us, and what lies behind us, is nothing compared to what lies within us. Another motto was "Know, like, trust". The general motto of BNI is to change the way the world does business; if that's what they end up doing then I'm all for it. Vuth told me they also kick people out if they notice bad ethical practices. When we left, we were allowed to take the red roses and chrysanthemums that adorned the tables. I have given mine to the travel office ladies.

I couldn't escape going over to Vuth and Cina's home to have lunch with them and Cina's parents. The main discussion around the table was how to help a carpenter who has done work for them for years. The family have bought him a plot of land for $7000 (5m x 25m) and it's an interest free loan. They were discussing how to help him build the house and to help him pay back the loan. Cina said her dad is happiest when he's helping people.

A visit to the dentist

This morning, Cina asked me to go to the dentist with her, her mother and the three boys. This place is totally different to the UK where it's not always easy to find a dentist; here there are often one or two clinics in the same street or even across the road from each other. It's a different story in the countryside where there are none at all.

All I had to do was sit and wait. They all went into various rooms and came out one by one as the treatment was finished. Cina and her mother left, presumably to shop or return to the travel office. I was there for nearly two hours, twiddling my thumbs. The owner of the business kept trying to encourage me to have my teeth cleaned but I thought I might as well wait until January when the Canadian hygienist comes. In Canada hygienists almost always insist on having two one hour sessions with a client whereas here the cleaning job is over and done with in less than half an hour. It's also a heck of a lot cheaper here. The total bill for four cleaning jobs and about 10 small fillings was $120.

Later in the morning Luc came for a visit. He's a retired Canadian nurse who is married to a Thai. She decided they should move back to her home town in Thailand after he retired. Their home is 10 minutes from the border so he travels there by bus and then walks home. He helps Son Soubert with the children at the Peaceful Children's Home. Border crossings seem to be getting more complicated; the land crossings here have always been problematical, because of bribery, but now the paper work is taking over. Nowadays, he has to go into a back office and fill in a form that asks for information about the money in his pocket and even his bank account details.

Life is tough in Cambodia for those taking care of disadvantaged children. In their infinite wisdom the government has decided that all these children should be returned to their home. In many cases they don't have a family so it means finding a family to accept them. They end up in situations where there is poor education, little food and not many opportunities. At Peaceful Children's Home there are two mentally handicapped children and Luc has found a French NGO that would take care of them during the day time but not at night time. They also want $100 a month to care for them. It's a shame that charities can't do something for nothing.

I'm having problems with next year's dental programme. For some strange reason the dates, given by the powers that be in the NGO, allow for one less day in Cambodia. I normally have the group working seven days during their two week visit but this year it's down to six. I'm loath to allow them to travel so far to do only six days of work so I'm trying to find ways of getting them to change their flights. Some are staying longer in the area whilst others are returning and have booked their flights. Some will have to pay a penalty. The head of the NGO said I should reduce the tourism I do with the group but there'll be a riot if I did that. I can get them to start working a day earlier, and reduce the beginning bit of tourism, but I think they'd be exhausted after such a long flight from Canada. So now I'm in a "wait and see" mode as they try to figure out the best option. I'd like to start doing the logistics but it'll have to wait until they make up their minds.

It poured with rain during his visit so we had to find extra things to talk about. We avoid politics as it's a pointless exercise; we can't do anything about it and it's depressing. The rain came down so heavily it flooded both my balconies and lots of muck came down the spouts. I didn't mind as it gave me something to do when Luc left.

Visit to Takeo Province

I thought we were leaving at 10am but it was changed to 9am. I was doing my morning exercise but had to stop to get ready to join Vuth and his three sons to visit a school in Takeo. It's owned by a friend who had the school built and it opened a month ago. His teachers are from various sources; some are part time while others are students of English Literature at a local university. He wanted me to talk to the staff about education. Monday was yet another public holiday so the boys were able to join us.

We stopped for breakfast and I ordered an omelette. The cook had burnt the bottom so he turned it over, put lots of vegetables and meats on it and then folded in the sides so I didn't notice the burnt egg. I couldn't be bothered complaining. For some strange reason the lads constantly want to go to the toilet so we either stop at a garage to use their facilities or we find a place along the road.

Cambodia could have lovely countryside if it wasn't for the rubbish. I've no idea where it comes from. In the villages the local people either burn their rubbish or they just drop it somewhere in the neighbourhood. In the countryside, where there are no homes, I think a lot of the rubbish is dumped by people in vehicles. If I focus on it, it's totally depressing so I try to avoid thinking about it. Rubbish is a huge problem everywhere, even in the UK. When I walk with my sisters, we often come across rubbish that's dumped along country roads by people in vehicles. It's not unusual to find huge objects such as abandoned mattresses.

We arrived at the school and were met by Oun who is the owner. We then drove to a nearby restaurant complex to have lunch with the teachers. They'd chosen a place where platforms with bamboo floors and grass roofs were scattered around the edges of a large pond. I made a big mistake and sat with my back against the wall for support because I can't get my legs under the low tables and I can't sit cross legged for so long. The rest sat in this way on mats; my backside was sitting on the bamboo slats with spaces in between the slats. I realised afterwards, when the itching started, that my backside had become a feast for the local mosquitoes.

The meal was enormous and I faded away long before the young folk.  Some of the dishes included an omelette with meat mixed into rice and corn, there was a huge fish, absolutely enormous snails, large prawns, dishes of vegetables, plates laden with intestines of various kinds and chicken.  Fortunately, the snails arrived when I was already full so I didn't have to attack them with a wooden skewer to pull the corkscrew-like creature out of the shell.  I did have one shoved into my mouth by one of the lads and it was fine except very peppery.  Being senior I generally don't have to fill my plate with food - it's done for me.  It's good but, on the downside, I have to eat what's put on the plate.  I found the intestines a bit chewy, especially the tubular kind; the kidney, liver etc., I'm used to from my old days in Yorkshire. 

It's strange how we were told to stop eating organ meat as it was high in cholesterol etc.  Nowadays, in Canadian nursing homes, the elderly are given one meal of liver a week as it's now good for them. 

After lunch we went back to school and I met with the 20 or so teachers for a chat about education.  They had brought note paper but I didn't see anyone writing.  I wonder if they found nothing of interest, understood nothing I said, or were so enthralled they forgot about writing?  I find Asians very reticent to give answers or opinions so it's hard work having a conversation.  It was even hard to get them to say "Yes" or "No".  In these situations I always say to myself, "I'm going to enjoy this, even if nobody else does."  I did too.  I shared stories from my teaching jobs, discussed the happiness of the child and the teacher, cooperation among teachers, understanding the background of the child etc.  I tried to show them that even though the building was bright, new and modern, it didn't mean the education in the building was of good quality - it depended on the teachers. 

It took 2 hours to drive the 72kph back to Phnom Penh.  There was added traffic because many were returning from the holiday weekend.  Ponleu wanted pizza so we phoned home and it was waiting for us when we arrived.  I sat and enjoyed a few pieces with them.  3 year old Cheata wanted to know where I'd been.  She said she had gone outside and shouted across the road at me but I didn't answer.  My apartment is directly across from their travel office.

Back home I managed to bash my arm on the key sticking out of a door knob.  I started to bleed like a slaughtered pig.   Why is it, when I have to give blood at the hospital, the nurses have to stick the needle in a dozen times and wiggle it around in order to find free flowing blood?  When I bash myself I am the world's best bleeder.  So I'm ending the day with toilet paper stuck on my arm.  It works better than bandaids/plasters because the humidity makes my skin sweat and nothing sticks.

This is what Sundays are meant to be

I surprised myself by having a good night's sleep; the worst part was having to get up early enough to be dressed and at the riverside by 7am. Oudom decided he wanted a walk along the river so that's what we did. It made a change to listening to the BBC World Service. We were to meet Meakara at the Royal Palace but never did see him which was strange as he was dressed in red and white.

It had rained heavily during the night so there were few people on the promenade. The pigeons were gathering early to eat the corn that people throw to them. Young boys wandered around selling bags of corn or popcorn. Ladies were busy making posies of lotus flowers for those people going to the pagoda to pray. The part I always want to avoid is the area where people keep birds in cages. Local people pay to get a bird from the cage and to then release it, carrying the person's wishes into the air. I feel sorry for the birds because the men have long poles, with something on the end, that catches the birds. Some say it's a sticky substance. The poor birds find it hard to fly away as they are disorientated and so they land on the floor and are quickly picked up to earn the man another dollar.

AIA is a huge insurance company and they've kindly painted a white line on the promenade to indicate that it's a "running track". The words are painted in English and Khmer, interspersed with "AIA" along the entire route. Along the side of the promenade are signs indicating every 50 metres, as if a runner needs to know that. It's just a chance for more "AIA" advertising. Somebody in the city hall got a nice handout I suppose.

After breakfast I promptly fell asleep until 11am. It was lovely and I didn't feel a bit guilty. I posted the photo as proof but anyone seeing it is not allowed to make any comment unless they are positive. Samnang (14) pointed out that the soles of his feet were dirty which meant my floor was too. This morning I decided to do something about it and I gave it a good mopping. It rained heavily during the night and that always means that detritus comes down the drain spouts onto my two balconies. Even though cleaning was only a 20 minute job I developed quite a sweat.

Oudom wanted to make a microwave cake in a mug so we made an effort. We didn't have some of the ingredients but we managed to turn out something that was edible. It was called a chocolate and peanut butter cake but we had no chocolate - we used Milo instead. Because of being away for six months it was as solid as a rock so we had to dissolve it. Now I've got a container in the fridge for Oudom to drink when he comes over. It only took 1 minute - it makes me wonder why we bother with ovens.

Sophiep came over at 4pm with his little daughter, Sara. Oudom didn't want to be formal so he decided to go home. Sara has the record of being the first child to visit me who didn't have to be given an iPhone to keep her occupied. Luckily, I had the Lego so she played with that for a while, and then attempted a Tangram with her dad. When they left she wanted to take various items with her but thankfully she didn't squawk when Sophiep took them from her.

Gwen's sister, Jean, died at midnight in Regina. This was the first summer I hadn't seen the two of them as I'd gone to England instead. Jean must have been around 90 years old and she was an amazing lady, always interested in social issues and human rights. She and Gwen lived together for many years as Jean was widowed and Gwen unmarried. It was lovely listening to Jean laying the law down to Gwen and Gwen taking it all with a pinch of salt.

I've just hung out my laundry on the balcony so it'll be dry in the morning and I can wear them straight away. The joy of living in a hot climate!

I'm now going to settle down to a British movie on YouTube.

Oh for a quiet weekend

I enjoyed my morning exercise, walking up and down the apartment corridor for about 1 1/2 hours. Time flies because I listen to the BBC World Service. I have to say I was saddened by the news that there's cheating in the athletic games for physically handicapped people. They told the story of how coaches encourage athletes to believe they are more handicapped than they thought they were so they can be placed in different categories. One Australian young lady moved from having a slight problem affecting her thinking capabilities, to having cerebral palsy, to being blind, to competing in swimming and cycling. Even when evidence was presented to the Australian governing body they refused to accept she was faking it.

I don't think I slept much last night as I was constantly fighting with Oudom for the quilt. He's always on my side of the bed, no matter which side I decide to sleep on. It's always a challenge keeping him occupied so I was grateful for Norma's gift of thousands of pieces of Lego which she'd purchased over the years from garage sales in Calgary. I enjoy his company, and I learn a lot from him, but he has to be kept busy otherwise he gets into mischief. I'd brought lengths of narrow plastic as he wanted to make bracelets for people so that kept him busy for a while.

He eats hardly any vegetables, and at the moment I've no meat in the house, so we went home so he could get some instant noodles. Ratha had left me a bag of organic oranges from a family farm in Battambang. They are the local kind of orange that never go yellow but remain a dark green. It's difficult to peel the skin off by hand and so it's done by peeling like an apple. They are always delicious. I also joined the family for lunch as granny had prepared a special dish made of minced pork, some fermented stuff and coconut milk. I was instructed how to eat it, adding it to mouthfuls of raw cabbage and cucumber plus a veg that looks like a friendly cactus.

I'm fascinated by the tree outside the apartment. Some branches still have flowers on them which means the tree has been flowering since April. Normally, fruits come from the flower but this one is strange in that the fruit comes from the stem that held the cluster of flowers. They are long, tubular "beans" that are sometimes almost a metre in length. At the moment they are a light green but eventually they'll turn brown. No one in Cambodia bothers eating them but last year a Vietnamese friend picked up a pod from the ground, opened it up and started to eat what was inside. Nothing happened to him!

Last nigh I had to watch a children's movie called "Holes". It's a very convoluted and complicated story so Oudom decided I needed help understanding it. I'm glad he did because at times I was totally clueless.

It's quite a challenge knowing what to talk about with him as his pet phrase is, "I know", and he does. He's constantly searching on Google for interesting things and they are all filed away in his head. He knows all the flags of the world, for one thing. At the moment, in school, he's learning all about the glaciation of Wales, the formation of tarns, parts of glaciers etc.

I have decided to move to the other side of the bed tonight to see if I have a better sleep.

An invitation to give a talk

I have realised my brain is getting addled. I have to make a genuine effort to keep my life simple and routine, otherwise I have a muck-up. That is something I've just had, but it's not the end of the world. It's a bit like that Banksy painting which partially shredded after some lady in Europe had paid nearly 1.5 million US dollars for it. She says it has a history to it so she was keeping it. It's the same with my diary - my little foibles and mistakes make things a bit more interesting and, those who read it, will very often feel much better about themselves when they realise I'm in a far worse state than they are.

So, tonight's the night for the mouse!

Vuth invited me for coffee in the morning and I met a friend of his whom I'd met earlier. Nobody bothers telling me the names of people I don't know so I learned later his name is something like "Oun". He's a very nice person and he's built a small kindergarten for about 30 children in a rural area about two hours from Phnom Penh. He's hired university students, who are studying English literature, to be teachers. The children do pay, and, out of his own pocket, he finds money for the teachers. He's invited me to go there on Monday to meet the teachers and to talk about education. I told him I'd prefer to get them to ask questions, which I can hopefully answer, otherwise I could be prattling on about things that are of no concern to them.

I'll go there with Vuth and the boys because it's a public holiday on Monday. We'll have lunch with the students and then I can have my chat. Vuth said it's close to a large lake which is famous for freshwater lobster so I have a feeling we'll be bringing some back.

The rest of the day was spent writing and reading until Samnang came over and this time my Mother's recipe - cheese, egg and tomatoes - was on the menu. Mother used to have two recipes; cheese, egg and tomatoes in a pan and cheese egg and tomatoes on the plate. The first one involves something akin to scrambled eggs; the second one has slices of cheese covering a plate, rings of tomato around the edge and an egg in the centre. It's then put into the oven to bake for a few minutes and eaten with bread and butter. Both are lovely and my comfort food if I can't think of anything else to eat.

I still have my lodger

Did I mention that I had a lodger?  I saw him or her scuttling down the corridor when I came back from Seoul.  It was dark so I’d no idea what it was.  I don’t think it’s a lizard as it would have scarpered up the wall.  It went into the spare bedroom so I shut the door on it.

I asked Vuth if I could borrow a mouse trap and I was surprised when it arrived.  It’s quite large and looks like a travelling cage for a cat.  It’s brightly coloured in yellow and green and has two rooms, like a mini bungalow.  There are various chutes that send the creature further into the interior, where it stays.  Vuth told me they’d caught seven mice in one evening and I presume they were all romping around the cage the next morning.  I asked how I was supposed to dispose of anything I caught and I was told I had to take it downstairs and let it go free on the street.

The last time I was mouse-catching was in the house.  I happened to see a mouse and when that happens I go nuts.  I yelled at the lads living with me and I started to take all the items stored under the stairs.  The mice had made lovely homes from the styrofoam boxes I had there, and they had countless babies, some of them so young they were blind and hairless.  The lads ran around whacking the large ones with broom handles while I casually vacuumed up the babies.  We also caught a rat in a live trap.  Chan poked a broom handle through the mesh of the cage and swung it violently in the air.  Then he opened the door and the rat staggered out, looking decidedly drunk.  Whack!  Down came the broom handle and that was the end of the rat.  Unfortunately, the lads aren’t with me any more; they decided they wanted wifely company rather than an old bachelor, so I’ll have to deal with this one on my own. 

This morning I checked the trap and to my dismay it was empty.  The creature hadn’t come for my peanut butter.  Then I realised I’d shut the poor thing in the spare bedroom and I presume it’s still there.  So tonight’s the night.

I had a lovely, simple day with no phone calls inviting me for meals.  I made a lentil, bean and vegetable soup for lunch and caught up on lots of letter writing.  We now have confirmation that a dental group will come in January so now I’m beginning to fret over the paper work, logistics, food requirements, programme etc.  Thornin tells me, “Relax and trust me”, but I often can’t.

In the evening Samnang came over - “What are you having for dinner?”  I said I wouldn’t mind a vegetable curry so I found him a Gujarati recipe and he was kept busy cooking it for me.  It was good too.  Later I walked home with him and came back with Oudom who will spend the night.  When I first had Samnang visiting it was hell on wheels as he was totally goofy and off the wall; now he’s 14 and acts in a more mature fashion.  I enjoy his company, until he tries to chuck lots of salt in what he’s cooking