Short stories from the Kingdom of Wonder

The police: part II

The other day, my first day of house hunting, I was following a pair of real estate agents down Monivong. I was not wearing a helmet because a) my helmet was too small and b) I did not anticipate leaving the Riverside area. There were plenty of cops along this route and I knew it was going to be a matter of time before they'd nab me. At one intersection, I saw the police waiting and decided to attempt evasion by turning right. Wrong! It was a one way street so I wavered right and then reluctantly decided to continue on my forward path as I had no other options.

The cop jumped out into the street waving his baton and blowing his whistle. Yeah, yeah. I pulled over and he told me I had run a red light. Yeah yeah. Then he told me I wasn't wearing a helmet. Yeah yeah. And then he looked at my bike and noticed it's Vietnam origin. Yeah yeah. I told the cop I had been following the real estate agents, who had stopped up ahead. And I told him I had a helmet back at my hotel, but it was too small, perhaps hoping for a little sympathy. One of the guys ahead came back to talk to the cop. 

At one point, when the cop was seemingly preoccupied with something happening further down the street, the agent whispered to me "Just go" and I hopped back onto my bike and started it up quickly, but the cop was only steps away and immediately blocked my route of intended departure. There was more conversation between the two men. The agent suggested giving him a dollar so that's what I did and the cop sort of looked at me like that's all you got and waved me on. Ridiculous! Running a red light, not wearing a helmet, having an unregistered bike, not having a license, which he didn't even ask for and I attempted to avoid "arrest." Welcome to Cambodia.

Budget guesthouses

I had stayed at the Longlin II Guesthouse before so I knew what to expect. I had few expectations actually, namely a bed that looked clean, a lock on the door, wifi and a hot shower. Ten bucks doesn't go very far. As a guest staying for more than one night, I also expected my room to get cleaned, but didn't need daily service. The morning after my second night I asked the guy to have my room cleaned. I came back later and it still wasn't. I left again about noon and asked them to clean the room. I came back later in the afternoon and apparently it had gone in one ear and out the other. By now the maid had gone home, but I still had the guy come up, fluff the pillows and take out the trash. 

I don't mind that the sink drains slowly. Or that they never give me soap. Or that key constantly falls off the beat down key ring. The bed is pretty comfortable, I'm sleeping well for me and the wifi has been pretty reliable. The next morning I again ask for my room to be cleaned. Surprise, surprise, it wasn't. And again it's too late to have anyone do it. So I just request new towels and some soap. They delivered. The next day, I ask again. And finally I got what I asked for. She took out my collection of water bottles, mopped around my collection of luggage and changed the sheets, which have unfortunately been laid upon by me. She even gave me a chair. 

Today, I decided to eat lunch at my guesthouse. Not having much in the way of vegetarian fare, I opted for the vegetarian burger. Thirty minutes later, it still hadn't arrived and I was getting irritable. I asked again and it seemed like my order had been forgotten. I moaned that I should just go next door to eat and that the wifi was slow in the downstairs area. He didn't seem to care. I decided to stay and wait it out in the end and the food was actually good once delivered. I could go on and on about this place, but I'll leave it at that. Nice kids, but they really don't know what they're doing.

Random shit

A real estate agent called me the other day to make an appointment to see a house. Meet me at 3pm on Street 390. Ok, what's the cross street? Street 390. No, on the corner of what street? Street 390. There are two streets! What are they? 3pm on Street 390. Eventually I hung up and waited until I was out of the sun and in a quieter place to finish the conversation. By that time she realized what I was asking. It was Street 143, in case you were wondering...

I pulled up to red light this morning to an painfully slow countdown. 39. 38. 37. 36 seconds with the sun in my face and my motorbike noisily idling with me wondering if its demise will eventually come in a situation like this. I look to my left and see the vehicle's driver picking his nose. One finger deep in his left nostril. He eventually removes it and wipes the goods on the floor. Then it was time for the right nostril. It was an action that required approximately thirty seconds to increase the flow of oxygen to his lungs. His windows weren't tinted, there was no shame and there I was, staring at him for thirty seconds trying to make him uncomfortable. I don't think he noticed and if he did, he certainly didn't care...

Walking down to the river this evening to the happy pizza restaurants, I was asked numerous times for Tuk tuk? Motorbike? Marijuana? And even the less common Opium? But when I finally got home, I realized that nobody had offered me boom boom. That's a rare occasion. Maybe Cambodia is different? I'm pretty sure it's a nightly occurrence, maybe all the hookers were busy...