The wedding party

The big thing about today was the rain; it rained almost constantly the entire day.  I started exercising before 6.45am and I ended at 8.15am.  I included some stretching exercises I had found on YouTube and a set of exercises involving a chair.  I quite enjoyed doing them.  I have to start early because I feel the day is over if I begin too late.  It's a revolution for me to do exercises; walking, for me, is fun and not classified as exercise.  Facebook told me I was to live until I was 104 so I feel I should do exercise to make sure it happens.  

While exercising I listened to a programme on smell and how some people are super sensitive to certain odours.  One man was a tea taster and he says at home all he wants is a simple meal as his day has been spent with smells.  Another lady was said to have an extraordinary ability to smell so many different things.  While I was listening it made me think of my dislike of the cooking odour that drifts up to my bedroom and often wakes me up.  It's bbq'd pork and it's nauseating.  On the other hand, when I go down to the little street restaurant to order pork and rice, I quite enjoy the smell.  It seems to me our sense of smell also has a lot to do with the way we feel, our state of happiness and health etc - for example, there's no way I am able to smell anything if my nose is bunged up.

It reminded me of Dad after he'd been injured in the coal mine explosion.  He lost his sense of smell and so, if he was cooking bacon, he'd shove the package under our nose to see if it smelt all right.  That was in the days of no fridges.  

Talking about our senses.  When I worked in the Arctic there were very few things to invade our senses.  Buildings were simple, roads simple, the landscape simple.  One day I travelled to Edmonton during the Christmas holidays and I visited a mall in the downtown area.  There was a hotel in the building and the guests' windows overlooked the inside of the mall.  As I went up in the escalator I started to feel a bit sick and I think it was because of all the things that were bombarding my senses.  The music, seeing my reflection in the copper coated windows of the hotel rooms, the people etc.  When I got back north I mentioned this to a nurse and she said it was most likely sensory overload which often affects northern people heading to the big city.

In the afternoon, Vuth phoned and asked if I'd like to go to the wedding party for Tola's sister.  I didn't know the wedding couple but I thought I'd keep Vuth company.  "Put $20 in your pocket", he said.  That would be my gift to the couple and generally paid for the meal and drinks.  

I felt sorry for Tola as he should have been outside with the family, greeting people, but he had to be inside trying to organise things.  He put us at a table with a couple of people from Nice in France.  Fortunately, the wife spoke English so we had a great time chatting.  Normally, ushers take people to tables so that a table of 10 people can be created and then the food is served.  This time there were no ushers so people were scattered all over the place and no tables were being served.  We waited an hour and then I got Tola to invite people to join us from another table.  Within a minute or two the food came and it was good too.

The starters included cold meats, crispy noodles, spring rolls and a spicy tomato dish.  These were followed by a steaming, boiled duck in a gravy.  One of the men at our table stood up and pulled the meat away from the bone to make it easier for us.  Then came a steamed fish in a lovely gravy, a Tom Yam soup with shrimps, a delicious dish filled with all kinds of mushrooms, another noodle dish with seafood and vegetables and finally a fried rice dish.  We ended with a dessert made from coconuts.  Drinks flowed freely and each table had a bottle of Chivaz Regal whiskey on it.  Our table did a good job of almost finishing it.  As usual, empty bottles and plastic were chucked on the floor under the table.  The wedding gift this time was a Khmer scarf which was a much better idea than key chains and other plastic objects.  These gifts are given out by the bridesmaids and groomsmen as they welcome guests.  I feel sorry for them too as they have to stand outside the hall from around 4.30pm until about 8pm; that's because guests arrive at any time.  

I met a man who asked me how old I was.  Normally I tell people but this I said, "How old do you think I am."  He said I was 57 so he became a friend for life.  His other friend said I was 45 which I thought was pushing it a bit.  57 sounds all right but it's a heck of a long way from 104.  

Bread and other things

After my morning exercise, as it was Sunday,  I went with the boys to the riverside so that I could buy some bread at Kaiser and give Ponleu a chance to feed the pigeons.  It's always a challenge crossing any road in this city but Sunday's, early in the morning, is a dream.  

For me a crusty loaf of healthy looking bread is comfort food; I could live on bread especially when there's some butter and nice cheese lying around.  Most likely Cambodia got the idea of bread from the French when they colonised the country.  The French liked to call such places "Protectorates" but heaven only knows from what they were protecting the local people.  Videos of their time in South East Asia are not nice to watch but I suppose it's the same for all colonial powers.  There are lots of bakeries nowadays in the cities in Cambodia but they prefer to produce a soft white bread and various cakes.  Baguettes are hugely popular but they have to be eaten immediately.  Bread is even called "Pain" - pronounced the French way.   Kaiser prefers to make European style bread and calls itself a "Boulangerie" - maybe that helps them to offer a light meal for $9.  Anyway, I do enjoy their bread with crispy crusts.

For some reason there weren't so many pigeons in front of the royal palace.  Ponleu started to feed them but children kept running through the flock to send them into the air.  It really annoyed Ponleu and he said he'd shoot them if he had a gun; the people, not the birds.  A Khmer lady beckoned Oudom to go over to talk to her.  I knew it would be about me.  He said she told him it was always a good idea to have a Western friend as they were better than Cambodian friends.  It's sad that people feel that way as often a local friend is far more important than a foreign one.

Back home we had our showers and breakfast.  They both wanted toast and, as usual, it was peanut butter for Oudom and thinly sliced cheese for Ponleu.  I had to get some work done so I said they could stay until lunch and then I'd take them home for a while.  I find entertaining children a huge challenge.  These two like nothing better than to be left alone with a computer or mobile device but it bothers me.  They both enjoy books so I really need a children's library.  I'm told there's a children's library in the city so maybe I should seek it out and take them there.  

Oudom constantly searches on the internet for information and he comes up with the most obscure things.  This time he told me the capital of Brunei and the fact that fresh bread cuts easier if I turned the loaf upside down and pressed down on it when cutting.  He had also researched about North Korea.  

The two lads came back in the evening and we had to have a compulsory fantasy movie.  It's fascinating watching the boys' facial expressions as they watch something that leaves me cold.  This time it was about an elf lady falling in love with a human boy and their battle with an evil dragon which turned out to be a good person who'd been turned into something bad.  Heaven only knows by what as we were watching part two.

Learning the art of parenting

On Friday night there was a big argument when I went to bed with Ponleu and Oudom; who would be able to sleep next to me. It was finally decided that I'd be in the middle. After that was settled, another argument ensued about who would tell stories and how many stories would be told. I put my foot down as it was already after 10pm and Ponleu's stories especially can go on until dawn the next day. I honestly don't know where his imagination comes from; he's only 9 years old but he can tell stories, in English, that include everything including the kitchen sink. I'm hopeless at telling made up stories so I usually end up telling stories from my past.

Sleep is never easy with two other bodies in the same bed. When I was a child in England we had three in a bed but I cannot remember it being as complicated as here. Oudom doesn't like the quilt so he sleeps on top of it which means he's in control. Ponleu starts off with his head on the pillow but in the morning he's usually under the quilt at the bottom of the bed.

I managed to get my walking exercise done before they got up for breakfast. Back home they are a noodle and rice family but with me they always want toast. Oudom wants his with peanut butter and Ponleu with cheese - he's says it's salty so I have to cut it paper thin. After that, the hard part starts - what to do with them. If I'm not careful they both want the phone and iPad. I've downloaded books for Ponleu but after a while he moves into playing games. Oudom is constantly searching for information. Today I learned about the capital of Brunei, which I have to admit I didn't know. I also learned the best way to slice bread - turn the loaf upside down, press down on the loaf and start cutting.

In the afternoon I heard "Peter" drifting up from downstairs - it meant that 3 year old Cheata was coming for a visit along with Samnang, the oldest. Luckily I have no treasures to worry about so I just leave her alone to entertain herself which means playing with everything in sight and then checking out my drawers and cupboards. Meanwhile, Samnang is discussing what I'm going to have for dinner as he planned on cooking it. They did go home for a couple of hours but then the three boys returned for the evening.

I'm always impressed with Samnang's cooking skills. This time we decided we'd have grilled cheese sandwiches with a tomato sauce. As usual, I had to sit in the kitchen to watch and discuss as he doesn't like being alone. He's a typical 14 year old; fed up with his parents whom he thinks are crazy, fed up being with his brothers and sister, the world is crap etc. He wanted to know if he should be allowed to go to a mall on his own. I have to be careful as I don't want to offend his parents. It's like being an unpaid counsellor.

The meal was excellent and then Samnang returned home to have spaghetti. His grandmother would be cooking it so naturally it would be a mess. I was left to entertain the two lads until bedtime which meant finding a movie. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll never see anything on the weekend that resembles an adult movie. Last night it was a fantasy cartoon movie which I sort of followed. It's interesting watching the boys, how their facial expressions change as they get involved with the story. It made me wonder what we used to do during the war years for entertainment. In our house it means solitaire or dominoes in the kitchen. We were only allowed in the "front" room on a Sunday; often no fire was lit as we needed coal for the kitchen fire. After school we were always told to go outside and play and we rarely went home until it got dark. Here in Cambodia, city children are enclosed in homes with no garden and no city green spaces; it's no wonder they turn to computers for entertainment. In a way, I feel sorry for them.

Returning to Phnom Penh

Over the years I get quite good at packing my bag to travel.  I go through the categories carefully and place everything on the bed - clothing, electronics, toiletries etc.  On the other hand, I always have to believe that only God is perfect as I invariably forget something.  This time I got back to Phnom Penh and realised my phone charger was in Battambang, stuck in a plug in the restaurant.

Before leaving with Cina and Vuth for Phnom Penh I did my walking exercise listening to the BBC. It was a fascinating talk about the invention of the instant noodle which took place in Japan in 1958. In the mind of the Japanese it was a more important addition to their society than the automobile industry, computers etc.  

They were created by a business man who had failed at a number of things.  After the Second World War the USA was providing Japan with a large amount of wheat flour which was something they didn't use in their diet.  This reminded me of my time in Africa in the 80s when locals kept complaining that nations were sending useless aid; one item was powdered milk which was ridiculous as most Africans didn't drink milk.

Anyway, this man came up with the idea of the instant noodle.  It must play a huge role in Japanese life as there are three museums dedicated to the simple noodle.  The BBC went to one museum and it was packed with noisy children having a great time.  The man also invented "Cup noodles" when he was 95.  Apparently, noodles weren't selling well in the USA but one day, on a plane, he was given a small cup container, complete with sealed lid, filled with nuts.  He had a light bulb moment and decided this would be a great idea for his instant noodles.  Nowadays, they are the most important currency in US prisons where they are traded for everything.  One motto he had was, "In life there's no such thing as too late."  I like that.  He even invented noodles to be eaten in space by astronauts.

The Cambodian family I travel with are a perfect example of the importance of noodles - they never travel anywhere without filling their suitcases with cup noodles.  In China they produce around fifty billion packets of the things and one factory churns out five hundred packets a minute.  They are purchased by travellers who have long journeys ahead of them on Chinese trains.  Nowadays, sales are dropping because fast trains have shortened the time taken to travel so people don't see the need for noodles.  It'll be a while before that happens here in Cambodia.  There is now a rebuilt railway line but I haven't seen a train on it yet.  

I was looking forward to some peace and quiet at home in Phnom Penh.  It had been quite noisy in Battambang what with the customers in the restaurant and the ceremonies going on that involved the Buddhist faith.  This morning I was woken up before 5am with the tinkling of traditional music from a pagoda.  It continued until around 7.45am.  Then someone started to speak and he was still speaking when we left over 1 1/2 hours later.

My quiet time at home was broken when Ponleu (9) asked if he could come over to sleep.  When he arrived, he had brought Oudom (12) with him - not the perfect combination for a quiet evening.  Oudom told me that he'd been hacking video games while I was away.  He'd hacked one game so that he knew where the enemy was hidden; his gun even fired automatically.  I told him the government would be after him if they found out what he was doing.  I don't think it bothered him.  

Practising absolute flexibility in Battambang

The best made plans of mice and men rarely work out. My idea of travelling from Battambang to Siem Reap was cancelled because there were no hotel rooms available because of the town's river festival, which involved dragon boat racing. On top of that, some of the people I wanted to see were travelling elsewhere. There are three main holidays in Cambodia - New Year, Pchum Ben, which is when they go home to remember their ancestors, and the river festivals. I'm learning these are the best times to stay home.

While I was staying with Thornin and Serey there was a leadership workshop going on with Grade 12 students, run by two young Buddhist monks. Buddhism has an interesting attitude towards being a monk or nun. You can become one permanently or you can be a monk for a period of time. Whether this is for one day or one month, the man has to go through the same ritual of having his hair shaved etc. Some men do it to give thanks for something that happened in their life, others do it if they feel the need to find a new direction. Many young children become monks because their families are destitute; the parents know, if they send their sons to a pagoda, the children will be fed, clothed, given a certain education and cared for. These children often return home for events such as rice planting, harvest or family ceremonies. Nowadays, many monks are educated and they are happy to share their knowledge with other younger people.

At the start of the workshop the monks hung up a poster of the various aspects of leadership. It used symbols and was in the Khmer language. After they left, I tried to figure out what the symbols meant - some I understood while others had me baffled. I hope I can post the photo I took so you can figure them out yourselves.

It reminded me of when I was at the airport a few days ago. A man went into the toilet and he came out very quickly when he realised he'd read the symbolism wrongly. I don't understand why there can't be a universal toilet symbol for men and women. When I first went to Canada I was taken to a German restaurant. The toilets were labelled Hansel and Gretel. I'd completely forgotten which was the man so I had to wait until I saw people entering and then I followed them. In Macedonia the authorities often used an umbrella and a high heeled shoe or fancy hat to represent the sexes for the toilets. When I travelled in Cambodia about ten years ago toilets were few and far between on the highways. Passengers would get off the bus and head off in different directions - no symbols were needed.

While staying at Serey's family home I've earned a deeper respect for anyone working in the restaurant business. In Cambodia the same people work in the restaurant seven days a week. Thornin and Serey offer over sixty different meals so it's challenging work. The first customers come for breakfast at 6.30 so they have to prepare the vegetables, soup broth etc long before the customers start arriving. Breakfast goes on until the late morning and, at that time, the staff are preparing for lunch. They do get a short break in the afternoon but that could involve cleaning the restaurant and shopping for more supplies. The restaurant doesn't close until after 9pm which means very little time for family.

It's not just tiring work, it's noisy too. Children run all over the place and use the play area with its swings and roundabouts. Staff shout orders to those in the kitchen to save walking there. It reminded me of the short-order restaurants in the USA that use a tradition of waiters shouting to the cooks to tell them what to prepare. I have a devil of a time because I never know what to ask for. I'm used to a menu with a description and pictures; here people generally create their own meal by saying what kind of meat or fish they want and what kind of noodles and how they want them prepared - in a soup, plainly cooked or fried etc. It's one job I've decided I could never do.

I think it was the full moon today. The family set up a table with candles, flowers and incense sticks, along with a gift of food and drink, to give thanks to the moon for the harvest etc. I suppose it's the Khmer equivalent of Thanksgiving or the Harvest Festival time in the UK. Little Lee An gave me three incense sticks. I asked what I was supposed to do and they said, "Look at the moon and say something." It was a nice way to end the day; a simple ceremony, and giving thanks for the food I'd been eating in the restaurant and the people who took care of me.