where cider meets condensed milk: Ants in the land of Land Ruisers

where cider meets condensed milk

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Ants in the land of Land Ruisers

Every morning on my moto ride to work, my favorite street stall is a signmaker's. Examples of signs you can have commissioned: (Khmer Rouge) Trial Judge. Police. Lexus. Land Ruiser. The idea is to let people know that you are powerful, and/or are rich, and/or drive a fancy car but don't spell that well. Someday I hope to afford a Land Ruiser, which I will eat during a nice dinner of Tofurkey with a Tuno sandwich.

I live 2 kilometers from work now, in a quiet tree-lined street surrounded by governor's houses and a golf driving range. My balcony overlooks a gated community across the street, with huge mansions with swimming pools and shiny cars. Perhaps even a Land Ruiser or two! In my new crib, I have a washing machine (good) and a tin roof (bad). When it rains, it echoes so loud in my room that it sounds like gunfire during an earthquake. Good thing I'll be moving before monsoon season. I also have huge spiders with webs up in the roof and ants everywhere and plenty of chirping house geckos. Some say ants hate cinnamon. This isn't really true. What they DO hate are rivers of body soap on the wall. This kept them away from food and the sink for a good half-day, until the river ran dry and stained the paint a faint shade of citrus-mint refresharomatherapy. At least they aren't mukade. Sadly, the ants are staying, but Mr V is leaving me for a visit with the husband (Mister Mr V) before she heads home.

My daily highlights are teaching my English class, because my kids rock. The weekly highlights are trips to the day care, because those kids are so great and so exhausting. I remember a time when I ran with 4-year-olds and didn't need to bathe in Lysol later, but MAN these kids would make you smile. Trust me. Last week, the big adventure was a trip to CCF 4 for Scott's birthday party. All 300 kids, all the staff, and the biggest birthday cake ever were in attendance! These gingerbread men have no idea that they're two months late for Christmas. Cake, snacks, playtime, dancing until 8pm... Phnom Penh knows how to party.

At the community center last week, a mother started petting my arms (very normal), asked me some questions. Response: "I am America, 25 o'clock naah?" (Yes, I am actually studying Khmer. No, I'm not retaining it well yet.) A pleasant staff member came over to translate more thing she wanted to say: "She says you have soft hands. She wishes she did, too. But, she works with semen." I looked down at her hands, faintly coated with gray and white dust, and immediately, I wanted her to stop touching me. Germs and headlice don't faze me, but...

Two minutes later, I came to the conclusion that she must have been a construction worker. I hope.

posted by Raychaa @ 3:53 PM

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