Sunday, August 7, 2011

Last Tribute to Phnom Penh

**Unable to add pictures at the moment. Right now, I'm just grateful I figured out a way to access my blog at all from Burma, even in a compromised form!! :)

Before I move on to writing about my adventures in Burma, there's one last wringing of the towel to be done, in order to squeeze out the last few droplets about my time in Phnom Penh. Having left now, as I look back on the three and a half months I spent in Cambodia, a well of odd curio memories assemble themselves into a hodge-podge jigsaw that encompasses everything from the consuming sadness of the S-21 museum, to the ever smiling faces of the tuk tuk drivers that hung out in front of our apartment. Before time moves too quickly forward, swallowing the minute details of what it was like living in that one-of-a-kind Asian metropolis, I aim to pay one last tribute to that city like no other. Phnom Penh... this is for you.

My first impressions consisted of wondering how to construct a unified understanding of a city that simultaneously displays some of the grimiest streets, most marginalized poor classes, and most underdeveloped infrastructures compared to other SE Asian cities... right alongside a shocking abundance of flashy SUV's proudly declaring in huge block letters: 'LEXUS', as well as the disconcerting amount of gated mansions, and the ever increasing development of posh towers looming over the cramped alleyways below. More than once, I actually saw a brand new HUMMER power its way through streets barely wide enough to fit its cartoonishly monstrous size. Yet, the vast majority of PP's residents zip around its claustrophobic lanes on small engined mopeds, gracelessly squeezing in and around the myriad of obstacles that lay in wait. The result on one's perceptions is that Phnom Penh seems the perfect microcosm of the economic reality that exists everywhere... but rarely so obviously. You know, that reality that less than 5% of the population controls 90% of the money (or whatever that statistic is). In Cambodia it happens to be that way because the millions of dollars of aid money that comes into the country rarely reaches the intended destinations, but instead amasses in the pockets of very few, very corrupt, individuals. (Good thing such injustice doesn't occur in the more developed parts of the world! Ha. Ha.) I once asked a couple who'd been living in Cambodia for quite some time, 'Are there any honest rich people in Cambodia?' The answer was given without hesitation: No.

Moving past the classlessness of its upper class, the words 'Phnom Penh' stir up a flood of uncategorized images and sensations, all forming their own little piece of that city's puzzle. The images appear all at once, one on top of another, and then circle around, each taking its turn in the spotlight of my mind. I see babes with bronzed skin fully exposed as they splash about in murky street puddles of rainwater mixed with mystery substances, unaware of anything beyond the cool delight of being wet. Next comes a street lined with open mechanic shops, their greasy machinery spilling out onto the streets, the smell of oil and petrol filling the air, and the permanently blackened hands of the sun-wrinkled men who work there, expertly coaxing dinosaur aged engines back to life. Another street scene follows, this one speckled with candy colored hair salons, the youthful employees there sporting a much different look while they listlessly mill around their shop fronts looking as if they're waiting to be discovered; an aura of 'cool' wafts around their manicured coifs that defy gravity, cemented into place by unknown chemical combinations.

Smell replaces sight for a while as the unmistakable 'flagship' smell of PP takes over all other sensations... durian fruit. Forbidden in many public places for its all-consuming aroma, that spiky fruit occupies countless roadside stalls in that city, filling the very air around with an inescapable attack on the nostrils. If you've never experienced it, and in your mind you are now trying to imagine it's smell by calling to mind the smell of other fruits... melon perhaps, or maybe a pile of apples, or strawberries or bananas possibly... all I can say is: stop. You're not even close. There’s really no way to describe it. The best I can do is to say: it is pungent, and it is unpleasant. Unfortunately, as long as nostrils are in control, the memories are rarely pleasing. Outdoor markets are in abundance, and wherever their colorful umbrellas abound, the smells of produce left out too long in the heat battle with the slimy aroma of half-alive fish gasping their last breaths. Once the sun finally makes a blessed retreat, (taking with it the aromas it extracts from everything it touches), one only has to battle with the scent of rotting piles of garbage that are swept out into the center of the streets, where they await collection in the dark hours of the night. I can't say that my nose will miss Phnom Penh.

But there's more swirling around, waiting for its place centerstage! All manner of mopeds continually and carelessly rocket around, interweaving themselves between each frame. Rarely are they topped by a solitary individual. No no no... 3 or 4 bodies on average are draped atop their narrow seats. Many times I saw 5 people, and with mounting excitement I would occasionally count up to SIX human beings precariously whizzing past on one little motorbike. SIX. (I've heard tales of seven, but sadly I never witnessed such a miracle myself.) Of course, many times I would see a motorbike occupied by just one person... and a washing machine perhaps. Or maybe a live pig, or another motorbike strapped on top. Or stacks and crates of goods so long, wide, and high as to push the driver up against the handlebars, leaving him with not even an inch of his seat to rest on, being held up instead by the pressure of his body against the front bar and the pressure of the goods upon his back.

Following the trails of their laden down wheels, my mind alights upon another curious sight: the carcass of an entire cow, casually rotating on a massive spit, in front of a corner restaurant. As if that's a perfectly normal thing to see in a country's most 'cosmopolitan' city. And then one of my personal favorites comes rocketing into the forefront of my mind: public aerobics classes! In the cool hours of dawn, they gather. While there is light enough to see - but not enough to drain ones desire to move - hundreds of residents collect in parks, and wide pedestrian boulevards. Massive speakers are set up, an impossibly energetic instructor takes his position down stage center, and the show begins! Young, old, those committed to fitness, and those who are there merely to socialize… all are welcome. And in the evenings after the sun releases its stranglehold, hoards again accumulate for round two.

Like many major cities in Asia, a thriving expat community can be found in Phnom Penh. Though, I don’t think many other cities can claim some of the unique qualities found within the PP’s scene. Say, for example, the fact that every other Monday night several hundred of them gather up for a strange event called ‘Nerd Night’. Or, perhaps it’s the fact that 90% seem to be working or volunteering for some sort of NGO. (Cambodia is home to well over 200 NGO’s, a staggering amount for a country of it's size). Whatever it is, they’re certainly a lively, friendly, and unique crowd.

Finally, I would like to conclude by paying a special tribute to the exuberant drivers of motorbike taxi’s and tuk-tuks in Phnom Penh. Though your relentless prodding’s drove me absolutely batty at times, I believe I can officially say you are the most dedicated drivers in all of Asia when it comes to encouraging business. After three years in Asia, having traveled through countries like India, Thailand, Nepal, and Vietnam… Phnom Penh is the only place where I have been asked if I wanted a tuk-tuk, while I was being driven past in another tuk-tuk. And just to put aside any doubt as to whether or not this phenomenon was a fluke: it happened to me twice.

Though more than one corner of the world may claim to dip its chips into some of the preceding dips, I do believe there is only one place in the world where the whole smorgasbord is available to sample. A city that is truly like no other - Phnom Penh - you will always remain a strange delight in my memories.

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