Overnight guest and a walk along the river

The last time I was at the airport I was there for over four hours waiting while Vuth dealt with customs officials who wouldn't let Polycarpe, from Burundi, into the country. Today, Avikuo, from Northern India, breezed through. He's an interesting person. He has only one name - no family name and given name. It's very long and he said his parents gave it to him when he started school. Luckily, Avikuo is a nickname and it's a heck of a lot easier to deal with.

I'm fascinated by signs. When I was in India I would make notes of all the funny signs I saw. "Ladies have fits upstairs", on the door of a tailor's shop. "Teeth removed by the latest methodists." I loved one on a park gate in Mumbai, "No organic pleasures allowed." That got my imagination going. The best one from my time in Nigeria was, "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Motorcycle Spare Parts." The Muslims played it safe - on their vehicles they always put, "Only God is great." In the new toilets at the Phnom Penh airport there's a sign showing how we men are not supposed to use the sit-down toilets. There's a picture of a man squatting on top of the toilet with a big X through the picture. Then a picture of a very smug looking man using it the right way with a tick by his picture.

We took Avikuo for lunch to the local Taj Mahal Indian food restaurant, which is actually owned by Pakistanis, and had a good meal. Tola, a Cambodian, joined us and had Indian food for the first time; he said he'd go again, which is good news as I enjoy eating there. On a Cambodian table there are always slices of lime. We were flabbergasted when Tola took a slice, complete with skin, popped it into his mouth and merrily ate it - I've never seen it done before.

While Avikuo was sleeping I took Ponleu to the riverside. He's fascinated with nature and this time he decided he was going fishing. He hunted all over for a worm; I told him he wouldn't find any as they only come out when there's heavy rain. He did manage to find one but it crumbled in his hand. Picking things up off the ground doesn't bother Ponleu one bit. I didn't stop him because he rarely is able to run freely because of living in a typical Cambodian city home with no outdoor space. He decided to make a fishing rod using discarded drinking straws, which he put together and then put a thin stick in the end. Then he hunted around for bait and found bits of bread. When his rod fell apart he found a large clump of vegetation that had fishing line wrapped around it. He worked at it for about half an hour to untangle the line. Then he was all set. I don't like his being near the river as the banks are steep and the water is fast moving but he was long gone so I had to follow. His bait kept falling off so we ended up sitting on the ground watching other fishermen. A grumpy man said we were sitting on his line so we had to keep moving. Now he's looking forward to next week when we'll spend a night at a nearby seaside resort.

He and his older brother have decided they are coming over and so I'm doubly exhausted by the time they leave. Both of them never stop asking questions and they are always intelligent so I can't ignore them. Back home in the old days our parents would say, "It's for me to know and for you to find out." Another pet expression I never fully understood was, "It's wigwams for ducks to perk on." That was a favourite Yorkshire expression and it just meant, "Shut up, I'm tired of your asking questions." If we kept asking our parents, "Where are we going?", they'd often say to shut us up, "Tickhill lighthouse and Waddeth docks." Both of these places are over an hour from the sea so we knew to shut up.

My Dad had the best idea. If he was trying to make something, and we kept talking and bothering him, he'd start to make a growling sound. It meant, "I've had enough!" We always made a hasty retreat. At home, in the evening, there were often more than a dozen of us sitting in the kitchen. Dad loved to listen to boxing matches as he used to be an amateur boxer in his pre-marriage days. Because of the noise from the children he had installed the radio high up the wall on a tiny shelf. One day he couldn't hear anything so he threw a temper tantrum. He picked up the radio and slammed it down so hard it blew up. The next day he happily took it to a shop to be repaired. He wasn't one for holding grudges.

For some reason, Ponleu is now interested in the Titanic. He destroyed his Lego town and now we have a Titanic in pride of place.

Household chores

The locals tell me they wash the floors of their homes every single day. Sometimes I look at my tiles and I don't see anything wrong with them. Then I get the mop and bucket out and I'm shocked at the state of the water; it's always dark brown to black. I suppose it's the dust in the air, which comes in constantly, as the vents in the walls are permanently open and the doors are open during the day.

I don't mind really as it's a bit of exercise. Today I was typing my Nigeria 1981 notes and I'd mentioned cleaning my house in Kano when I first arrived. I was told it had been cleaned but their 'clean' and my 'clean' were totally different. They'd mopped the floor but had splashed the dirty water up the walls. I got that sorted out and then I had to tackle the floor. The walls had been painted white but the lads had splattered the paint all over the floor. I lost count of the number of razor blades I went through. I don't suppose the lads had seen a fridge before so they didn't bother looking inside. It was in an awful state, dirty and with lots of leftover food. After cleaning it I noticed there was only one hinge on the door and so I reported it to the school principal. He sent a workman to fix it but his idea of fixing the door was to remove the other hinge, supposedly to buy another one the same, but he never ever came back and so, from 1981 to 1984, whenever I needed something from the fridge I had to lift off the door and prop it up against the wall.

My Phnom Penh shower has started to behave itself after over a year of use. Up until recently I'd have a shower and turn off the water so I could stand at the sink and have a shave. Invariably water would start coming out of the shower head and I'd end up having a second shower. Again, I don't complain. When I was in Nigeria I had to inspect the dormitories and toilets every Saturday with an Indian teacher. I felt sorry for her because she'd be dressed in a sari and dainty sandals which were hopeless for the inspection. Water constantly dripped and algae were everywhere. The green slime would clog up the drains and there'd be water everywhere. It took us 1 1/2 hours to inspect the 16 dormitories and 9 toilet/shower complexes.

One day I was called to the dorms because a lad, Murtalla, had slipped on the algae and bashed his head against the shower wall. There were no ambulances so we put him in the back of my VW Beetle and took him to the hospital. The poor lad died from a brain hemorrhage. Phyllis and I collected all his belongings and visited his family. We had a photo of Murtalla and we gave it, along with his belongings, to the father. He refused to accept them. He said, "I know no Murtalla". I guess he was too grief stricken to know what to do.

Spending time in Japan forced me to learn how to use their complicated toilet system. I know people with automated showers that give the same temperature of water every time they step into the shower. After seeing what I've seen, I'm happy with what I've got.

The young boys I know are provided with a lunch every day when one of the office staff takes a meal to school for them. This is instead of eating the school canteen food. Today I asked Samnang if he'd had the Ta Krung for lunch that I'd had yesterday. He said, "No! I ate canteen food. It's too stinky and I have my reputation to look after." I brought him recipe books from Canada but he never uses them. Today he decided to do a sweet and sour dish and he just hunted through my shelves looking for this and that to put into it. I thought I'd befuddle him and said, "We'll do a flambé on Monday." He knew what I was talking about and was already planning how to do it. At his age I think I knew how to boil an egg!

The lads are at their Chinese class so I've no idea if anyone is coming over this evening. I'll have to kick them out early tomorrow as I have to go to the airport to meet a young man from Nagaland who is coming here for three months to do some volunteering work. I have a Naga blanket so I should put it on his bed to surprise him and make him feel at home.

Journalism, language and a special Khmer dish.

This morning I listened to an excellent programme about journalism in India and the role of women in various parts of the world. I ended up on the side of women. It was organised by Lyse Ducette who is the chief foreign correspondent with the BBC. I'm going to name drop and say I know her - she stayed on the Bocock farm many years ago.

In India only one woman in 10 works in a newspaper office and they aren't allowed to cover tops that are too 'manly'. They are limited to the softer subjects such as recipes and beauty treatments. It's even worse in Iran where the media are totally controlled by men. They talked a lot about positive news. One story was about a man who couldn't find anyone to water his plants while he was away and so he devised a drip bottle system. People learned about it and within a day he had five hundred orders. Many years ago I heard a journalism debate in the USA and a lady asked why there was so little positive news. One journalist said, "You wouldn't read it. You don't want to know that all aeroplanes took off safely today; you want to read about the one that crashed." I prefer the Indian story.

I often feel as if I'm in the dark ages when it comes to language. When I left England in 1964, if I didn't hear someone speaking to me I'd say, "Pardon?" A couple of years later I went back and a brother was saying "Sorry?" I had no idea what he was talking about. During my time in Calgary I visited a couple and the wife would start every conversation with, "Well I mean like". I used to cringe waiting for it. When I lived in the cabin west of Cochrane two families had trailers on the property and they used them on weekends. One of them had been a member of Toastmasters International and he would give me heck if I said "You know" or I hummed and ah'ed. He said, "If you don't have something real to say, then keep your mouth shut." That bit of advice has stuck with me for 52 years.

I keep wondering where the word 'absolutely' has come from. It was said by one journalist this morning - not once but many times. I know what it means but I simply can't bring myself to use it the way it's used nowadays. When I listen to the CBC in Canada I hear people using the word a couple of times in the same breath. In my English class today I think I'm slowly getting through to Phearak and Srun that the 's' at the end of a word is super important in English. I know how they feel as I can't get my head around the sounds they make in Khmer.

I was called over to the other house for lunch today. The family was having a dish called Ta Krung. Vuth said, "If a family is away from Cambodia, this is the meal they miss the most." It's a very different kind of meal. There's a plate in the centre of the table piled high with lettuce, the stalks of lotus plants, young banana plants that has been grated into strings and the flower of the banana treated in the same way. There's an aquatic plant, that you can only get if you know someone with a pond, that's known as frogs' legs and the flower of the water hyacinth which is a lovely dark lilac colour. One takes a lettuce leaf and adds bits of all the other things and then there's a traditional steamed fish dish added to the mix. The whole thing is then popped into the waiting mouth. The steamed fish dish is a challenge as it's got a fermented dish added to it. All of this went with a plate of rice.

Grandmother had spent a long time making a "green" soya drink so I had to sample a glass. She makes it by blending a special grass into the drink. After that, I was given some Durian. I love it but it does talk to me for a long time after eating it and my fingers are stinky no matter how much I wash them.

The people coming with the dental group are discussing whether or not to have an elephant ride when they are here. One man is a photographer so he's wanting to know about sunrise. I've sent him my photograph of the sunrise and I've told him to keep it in case it's cloudy on the day he goes.

Diaries really are lovely things. At the moment I'm typing my notes from my time in Nigeria and it's fun reliving events and being reminded of so many things I'd forgotten about.

Freezing bedrooms, English class and visas

It's amazing how positive the day becomes after doing my morning routine.  It's just a matter of habit but it's hard work.  I've always bragged that I could rule the world if someone would put a desk over my bed; I love my bed.  When we were children in Yorkshire it was often hard for us to settle down for bed.  There were six boys in one bedroom, six girls in the other room, and our parents with younger offspring in the third bedroom.  We'd start making a noise, which bothered our parents as it kept the younger ones awake.  Dad had a habit of fooling around which just made matters worse.  One day he crept upstairs and got on his hands and knees before coming into the bedroom.  The next thing we knew was our bed was being lifted up into the air on his back.  Naturally, we burst out laughing so he gave us a whack to shut us up.

On another occasion I didn't want to go to school as it was exam time.  Mother was sick and tired of writing, "Peter has diarrhea", so she sent Dad to get me out of bed.  I wouldn't budge so he tipped the bed upside down and I landed on the floor.  I finally gave in and went to school.  

We dreaded bed in the winter time as it was so cold.  There was a fireplace but we daren't light the fire as the beds were too close to it.  In his motorbiking days Dad had used a very heavy black leather coat and so the lucky ones got to have it on top of the blankets.  Sometimes we'd wrap a shelf out of the oven in a towel and put that at the bottom of the bed.  I don't think we had hot water bottles.  Nowadays I love a cold bedroom - life's a bit topsy turvy at times.  

Phearak came over for his English lesson.  For some strange reason I keep forgetting he's coming over.  Today he forgot his keys so his phone call alerted me.  I wish I could find culturally appropriate lessons; most of them are based in the USA or England.  The grammar part is all right but the settings are often confusing for people who've never been to either place.  Today I had to deal with "ground floor", "first floor" etc; today's article was based in London but others are from the USA where the ground floor is the first floor.  It also talked about all sorts of sports Phearak had never heard of; it was all right when I had to demonstrate 'jumping' but I drew the line when he wanted to know the meaning of gymnastics.  I'm also having to deal with the different ways of telling time.  Normally, in Cambodia, they would say, "It's eight forty", but the worksheets talk about "twenty to nine".  It's hilarious when I give Phearak and Srun my watch and I ask them to figure out certain times.  Getting them to understand 'past' and 'to' is a challenge.  I'm not complaining though as their English is infinitely better than my Khmer.  

I have to take my passport so that Cina's office can apply for my one year visa to Cambodia.  I'm always embarrassed when I talk to people about visas; most of the time I don't need one but, if I do, it's always issued.   I listened to a programme from Tunis this morning and a young lady said her wish was for all Tunisians to get a visa when they want one to anywhere.  There's so much discrimination surrounding visas; in Canada's case I complained once that a friend from India had been rejected twice by Canadian representatives in Jamaica and also New York.  Each time she lost the $60 she had to pay.  I wrote and said it was disgusting.  I received a reply from the Canadian government saying that it was one way of bringing down the Government's deficit.  

I should stop as Samnang, my chef, will arrive in a few minutes; today I'm going to have something involving pork.  I really should put in writing my one and only nasty experience with visas but I'll do that tomorrow.  

Mostly a fishy story

I accidentally left my phone in the living room so I didn't hear the alarm and got up at 7am; I was angry with myself and I didn't even bother doing the extra exercises.  I was so full from yesterday's banquet I decided that breakfast should be liquid - milk, juice and tea.  I skipped lunch because I couldn't be bothered and ended up having some cheese on bread at 4pm, without butter as I've run out.  It was a boring day as I just couldn't be bothered doing anything.  I've decided not to feel guilty as I'm retired and living alone and so I am only responsible for myself - most of the time.  

While doing my walking I listened to a programme on the extinction of the abalone population off RSA if poaching continues at the present rate.  It was no surprise to hear that most of the illegal catch goes to Chinese middle men as it's a delicacy back home.  It reminded me of going out in a canoe with Clio when she and Alex were taking care of a home on a tiny island off the coast from Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island.  It was low tide so we were able to pry a few abalone from the rocks.  I saw their iridescent shell and realised it was used to make 'pearl' buttons in the old days.  

Back home Clio invited people for dinner and they arrived in their yacht.  Clio had dolled up and was in a long gown while Alex wore his Matheson tartan to prove that he was Scottish; he was actually born in Africa with Scottish parentage.  Clio cooked the abalone in butter, milk and some rum.  It was a hard job; Mrs Beaton's cook book said we had to remove the snail from the shell but we had to be careful that it didn't die in a state of tension - what a whacky suggestion.  To soften it, Clio bashed the living daylights out of it with a wooden mallet.  The creature was so rubbery the mallet bounced up of its own accord.

After finishing a part of the meal, Clio and I collected the dishes and took them to the kitchen which was up a short flight of stairs.  We'd never used the washing machine but today Clio decided to put the dishes into it.  She put some soap powder into it and started the machine.  Within minutes there were bubbles coming out of the machine, filling the kitchen and flowing down the steps.  The guests didn't see anything as they were sitting with their backs to the kitchen.  I grabbed the dustpan and started to shovel up the bubbles and putting them in the kitchen sink.  We stopped the machine but the bubbles kept on coming and I kept on shovelling.  Clio joined the party and said I'd be cleaning up in the kitchen.  I just wish someone had taken a photograph.

 At 5pm Samnang came and I gave him a bit of salmon to cook along with rice and tomatoes.  He finished off the tomatoes by making a stew with onion and red pepper but he doesn't stop there, he always wants to add more and more things.  This time it was some cheese and sugar, which I hate although it doesn't harm the flavour.  He chatted away and then I smelt burning - it was most likely the cheese sticking to the bottom of the pan.  I knew what he was doing by chatting and cooking - he was trying to avoid going to Chinese class.  I told him he had to go as his parents would be angry with me and they might even stop him from coming over which would be a disaster as I'd have to start cooking my meals.

I finally got him out of the apartment by going over to his home to collect the bottles of vegetable juices that I'd ordered from Menghieng.  Hieng is a young Cambodian entrepreneur who is juicing organic vegetables - mainly soya, sweet potato, pumpkin and corn.  They are delicious, with no additives.  I got twenty bottles so that'll keep me going for a while - at $7 for the whole lot, it's a real treat.  While I was with Vuth, Grandmother gave me a coconut and Vuth chopped off the top so I could drink the water.