This morning I looked into the mouse trap and didn't see a mouse. I was delighted; it meant the poison and/or the peppermint spray had worked. Later I decided to take another look in the trap and there was a mouse - in room number 1. I was really deflated.
Vuth came over to find some peace and quiet for a Skype conference call so I invited him to look into the kitchen of my downstairs neighbours. I was amazed to see her using the broom but unfortunately she didn't use it in the kitchen, where it's most needed. We also saw a tray covered with the glue stuff that people use to trap mice; there were three of them stuck to the tray. I went down later in the day and they were still stuck there; heaven only knows when she's planning on disposing of them. Now I have to do my eviction trick at 10pm and put some more peanut butter in the trap. It's getting expensive.
Friend Milind phoned from India to say that the cold season had started. Panchgani, where I stay, is 1000m above sea level and so, during the cold season, the temperature is mild during the daytime and downright nippy at night time. It's lovely to sleep under many blankets whereas here in Phnom Penh I have one cover and the air conditioner on.
Boroith phoned to say his brother got engaged today. I'm very close to the family but I'm eternally grateful I wasn't invited. He's still on the road, coming back by taxi, so it'll take him around 7 hours to reach home. Komphear has to raise US$5000 to pay as a dowery to his fiancee's parents; it's not a dowery in the same way as in India but rather a deposit on the cost of the wedding. So the wedding day depends on when he can get all the money together. I think I'd run away from home if I was in the same situation but traditional values have a strong hold on people here.
I learned of a new therapy this morning - financial therapy/psychology. Apparently, there's a lively business by psychologists and therapists helping people with the stress of dealing with money. People most likely think I'm lying when I say I haven't a clue what I have in the bank; I don't even know the amount of money I get as pension. My bank people told me I had enough to bring my body back and deal with it. I told them, I'm not going back if I happen to pop off away from Alberta. The people in the interview said it's important to look into our past to understand how we deal with money. I wonder what we have to think about if, like my family, there was no money?
I used to get two shillings a week from my Granddad and for that I had to go to the shop every evening after school to bring him his "Players, Capstan or Goldflake" cigarettes. I also had to do the garden of the local baker, cutting the grass around his bungalow and taking care of the plants. Every Saturday I went into town, on the bus, to buy the horse meat which Dad cooked for the hens we kept. This was just after the war so there was still rationing and we had to depend a lot on what we could raise ourselves or grow.
One Saturday I detoured and went into the market before buying the meat. I watched a demonstration of a toy which I thought would be nice for my younger siblings and so I bought it. I went home with a smaller package of meat. I couldn't face Mother with the toy so I hid it under the neighbours' hedge and two weeks later I fished it out and showed it to Mother. "Look what I've found!" I said. The toy was metal so it was quite rusty by this time. "So that's what you bought with the meat money", my smart Mother said.
I've just heard that a South Korean boy was removed from a gaming place where he'd been sitting and playing non-stop for 96 hours; the police had to drag him out. One in seven South Korean boys are addicted to gaming. I feel sorry for them; it's as if the parents have no clue what to offer them as an alternative. In my younger days we had no toys for inside the house and none for outside; we had to play with what we had. We used Mother's clothes horse and covered it with sacks and mats to make a tent. We played Tin Can Alley, whacking a tin can with a stick. For Hopscotch all we needed was a bit of chalk. Inside the house we played dominoes or cards and that was it. Most people in the village were in the same boat so we never felt deprived. The little 3 year old I know here said, "If I cry my dad gives me his iPhone." Kids are smart and parents don't often realise they are being controlled. I had lunch with her today; I came back to my peace and quiet with a smile on my face.
