where cider meets condensed milk: April 2008

where cider meets condensed milk

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Gingerbread houses

Gingerbread! Actually, someone probably stuck Brite-Lites into the shape of a palace, but it does look romantic.

Sayonara MisterV... at the best Japanese restaurant in town, with the worst service. This night, the city was having power cuts, so the whole place went pitch-dark every 7 minutes. It was bloody hot, because of the weather outside and the burning (yakiniku!) coal pits inside, and then the lack of fans/aircon. Cold beer, hot nights--ah the joys of endless summer. All the girls keep asking me if she's really gone, and if she will pleeease have a baby soon and bring it back to CCF.

My newest roommie is Lauren from Boston, and she will hopefully be inspiring/forcing me into half-marathon shape, especially if I'm still here to run at Angkor Wat in December. With my sublet expiring, and having several options for apartments swept away out of our reach in matter of hours, we jumped on an offer for a beautiful apartment and moved within 2 days. Out of the ant-n-gecko-n-spider oasis, and into the shiny new flat! (No, it's not the royal gingerbread palace pictured above...) It's a few blocks from Tuol Sleng--the high school turned torture chamber turned Genocide Museum-- which at first made me not want to even see it. Lauren's observation is that when living in a death-torn country that is so different from what your reality is, you inevitably end up weaving nightmares into your daily life... and making them better.

So, now my house is 2 blocks from where 17000 people were interrogated under a brutal regime, and my happiest days are working near the garbage dump, which is one of the most apocolyptically bad places you can imagine. I am not saying I don't miss my clean green other lives... I do. A lot! But maybe acknowledging the nightmares keeps you grounded, keeps you humble, keeps you thinking about life, keeps you aware of the proximity to death, keeps you remembering how important it is to have a safe home and a good family. I always thought it odd in Japan that their cemetaries (for ashes?) were snuggled up right next to houses and combinis and schools. But perhaps no more strange than placing death into beautiful, lacquered coffins and burying it far, far away. No matter where you are here, you can't escape the poverty and disease and crime and desperation, but it's easy enough to find the great things -- happy kids, helpful grandmas, and icy sugarcane juice make the world go round.

posted by Raychaa @ 8:23 PM 1 comments

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Bride of Demented Airline Employee Returns to BKK

Excuse me... I speak jive. Get yo' groovy self out the door!

BKK... again. But, my visa worries may finally be over, two pricey trips to Thailand later. Flew to Bangkok on Friday night, with no plans, and nothing but directions to my favorite guesthouse, which rudely decided not to honor the reservation. Jerks. Ended up at a shadier place down the street- clean, plain, nothing special, nothing awful. The window looked straight onto the Skytrain platform, which meant I had to be extra careful to close the curtains. Otherwise... free show with every ticket! Yikes. BKK is really great the 1st... or 2nd... or 8th time you're there. This marked stay #10 (not including airport stopovers). Eh. Too many trips for a city I don't much like, but the shopping is good.

Tim was en route to America for his business plan competition, so I had someone with which to indulge my twice-daily need to eat Japanese food. (Yaaaaaay onigiri!) Also, Mexican, Egyptian, Italian, and multiple stops for bubble tea. Since I first came to BKK, cars and trucks have pretty much eliminated the herds of motorcycles on the roads. BKK is really the first world, as long as you stay away from the slums. And mostly, I stayed in the shopping areas, and only ventured to Khao San in pursuit of a cooking class. Good job.

Happy? NO ONE ASKED THE CHICKEN.

Within four days, I was back in Phnom Penh with new clothes and books, and no need to go to work for another week. My first big adventure was buying a used Japanese bicycle, at last feeling confident enough to ride around in traffic. I could finally stop depending on motos, and it would be easier to get everywhere! Had a lovely day of cruising, locked it up in front of my aparto next to my roommate's... and found it missing in the morning. It was gorgeous: slightly rusted Japanese mamachari, with a bell and a basket, and powder-blue finish. I never even had time to give you a name, but I miss you already. Such beauty can be fleeting. Gone bikey gone.

posted by Raychaa @ 3:02 PM 1 comments

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Going glam

What to do when waiting for a ride to a wedding? Check out the 'flections in a Lexus. Ballin'.

Everything about Cambodian weddings is big and bright and over-the-top. Two wonderful staff members got married on Sunday, and everyone and their mother (and the little volunteers) were invited. Many happen out on the street, under bright tents, for that festival feel. This one happened in a huge air-con wedding ceremony palace. The traditions are half-east, half-west. When the bride and groom walked in, she wore a white dress, and they circled the table several times while we all threw little flowers. Then, came time for the cake. Cue "Here Comes the Bride," and light the... birthday candles. Make a wish! A little fusion? After that came lots of dancing. Sadly, we didn't get to eat the cake.

Mr V and Raychaa, gone glam for a moment. I may commission a crazy glittery dress to be made for me soon, and I'm rethinking my (imaginary and not happening soon) wedding plans. Out with class. Starting to like the idea of crazy colors and a DJ wearing a kroma who croons American rap songs in a foreign language. Martha Stewart Wedding magazine, cancel my subscription. Once you've gone gaudy, you'll never go back.

Cyclo pub crawl-- how excited is this driver to have someone else take his seat? I bet he was glad to rest his flipflopped feet.

And from the night before, happy birthday to Nora! Hey, what kind of pet shop is serving flaming B-52s at midnight? The best... damn... pet shop in town!

posted by Raychaa @ 2:37 PM 1 comments

So wrong it's right. And then wrong. And then wrong again... welcome to the inaka.

About Me

Name: Raychaa
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About Me: “No man, not even a doctor, ever gives any other definition of what a nurse should be than this - 'devoted and obedient'. This definition would do just as well for a porter. It might even do for a horse. It would not do for a policeman.” (Florence Nightingale)
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