Hidden behind all these cheery, positive words is a droopy body that just wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until the new year. I was so glad that Canadian friends have written to me describing the same symptoms I have had. I don't mind a cold with the runny nose business but this aching muscles and joints really isn't my cup of tea. I didn't go to the doctor because I'd end up with a hole in my arm and a saline drip, with some sort of cocktail, and a bag full of antibiotics.
The plastic pipe carrying my washing machine water to the drain developed a crack. Cina's dad, the great fixer of all things, came over with a new pipe. The diameter was too small to go over the outlet. "Do you have a toaster?", he said. I know he likes my bread but it was mid morning and he'd have had his breakfast. I got the toaster. He turned it on and held the plastic pipe over it - he was softening the pipe so it would fit. Now if that was anywhere else, the plumber would have said, "Sorry, I'll have to go back to the shop to get another pipe." It worked.
About 10 years ago, when I was in Mumbai with the Action for Life programme, the youth group decided to organise a thank you party for the locals who had helped us. Our hosts said they'd be away so we had to organise it ourselves. The youth rearranged the formal furniture into conversation areas, they put cushions on the floor so people could sit on them. Leading up to the apartment they put paper footprints on the stairs and flags of their countries on the door with words of welcome in many languages. I was a bit worried as posh Indian people are super proper when it comes to their homes, but they were away so no problem.
Dilip arrived with a bag of uncooked chicken legs. He was an engineer who'd lived in the USA, made a lot of money and owned a huge school. He was Hindu and he'd met a guru who'd converted him to vegetarianism so it was nice of him to think about buying chicken for us. He asked where the oven was. I told him it was an Indian kitchen so no oven. Then he asked for the microwave. I said there wasn't one. So where is the toaster, he said. The toaster was ancient and temperamental; when the bread was ready you had to stand with your hands ready to catch the slices as they went flying into the air. Dilip had the bright idea of cooking the chicken legs across the top of the toaster - I had a heart attack - fat dripped down into the toaster. It was quite successful but what a mess.
In the midst of our party, the hosts came back and what a palaver they made about the furniture being moved. We had to apologise! The next day I scrubbed and scrubbed and finally gave up and bought a new toaster. I don't want to have to write another toaster story.
Back to Phnom Penh! In the afternoon I went with friends to a coffee shop. I really don't enjoy coffee so I had a hot chocolate. Is it the same everywhere - hot doesn't mean hot? I drank it in one gulp. Thornin ordered a meal and he asked us to taste the gravy. If it had been in the Dead Sea we'd have floated in it. It was awful. He mentioned it to the waiter who came back to tell us that it came pre-cooked, in plastic bags from Thailand. These trendy places are comfortable but often street food is more trustworthy.
The conversation then turned to a sauna. They said a sauna would do me good. We paid our six dollars entrance fee, picked up our shorts and towel and set off to enjoy ourselves. I didn't fancy a massage but was told I'd have to sit and wait for them for an hour so I might as well join them. It was all included in the six dollars anyway. I lay there with my eyes closed, tolerating all the squeezing and stretching. "Are you OK?", the lady kept asking. Meanwhile the other two are chatting a mile a minute to their ladies who were giggling their heads off; I presume Vuth was telling some of his Cambodian jokes that he thinks are so funny he has to repeat them to make sure you understand. I'm always glad when it's over.
I keep telling Cambodians they should move to Canada if they want to be cold. I was so cold the lady covered me with two towels. I was happy to head for the 43C hot pool for a while, a quick dip in the 19C pool and then off to the dry sauna and steam. The steam was so hot I ended up with blotchy skin. I was quite pleased with myself, seeing the plump, middle aged men. Maybe they thought the steam would slim them down a bit. I don't carry my phone when I go to these places but the locals do; an attendant carried around a stack of phones and, when one rang, he had to hunt for the owner. One man said, "Hello, how old are you?" I've got used to it and it's quite nice when they sound surprised.
I came home exhausted and went straight to bed.
