Well, here I am. Back in Cambodia after a near seven-month absence. To see how I feel. To see if this is where I am meant to be. To hibernate for the winter maybe. I'd purchased a roundtrip ticket when I left the Kingdom of Wonder and got the return portion reissued for free – thanks Asiana – so it didn't cost me anything to come back.
I was also unemployed, which made it easier to leave. My stint as a Google Street View driver had thankfully come to an end the month before. The biggest factor, I think, was that it was time to get my own apartment. Signing a lease and committing to the Sacramento area for the next six months at least. I wasn't sure, as usual. It was time I started paying rent as I'd had luxurious rent-free digs for the duration of my stateside visit but to sign a lease while unemployed was not an enticing prospect.
So here I am now and it's too hot. Hadn't experienced sweaty ball syndrome in a while and can't say I missed it. To make matters worse, it's the fecking "cool" season. That doesn't bode well. I think it's abnormally hot for this time of year, but still. A bead of sweat rolls down my calf as I sit in the shade listening to steel saws, hammers and a crying baby as a gentle breeze trys to convince me that it's comfortable. It is not.
At least I don't stink. Well, my armpits anyway. I've gone back to using Adidas with anti-perspirant, Alzeimer's in the future be damned. I'd prefer something sans alumninum but can't find anything that actually works. I'd also prefer to be drinking bubbly water – say a cold can of La Croix – instead of this sugary Schweppe's Ginger Ale, but seems that beggars can't be choosers. When in Rome, blah blah blah.
When I lived here previously I almost always had wheels, whether it was a bicycle or motorbike. I am not ready to commit to the purchase of either nor willing to rent a moto because there's no place to store it. So that means I am walking most of the time, which has reminded me how annoying it is to do so in this city. To go the 1.4 kilometers from my hastily chosen third-floor studio to a popular riverside cafe, I pass what seems like hundreds of eager tuk-tuk and moto-taxi drivers.
Tuk-tuk? Motoby?
Where you go? What you do today?
You go Killing Fields? Shooting range?
Royal Palace?
You want lady?
Weed?
Massa?
No, thanks, I reply the first few times and then slowly lose the energy to be polite and just say no, shake my head or pretend not to hear them. Can't blame them for trying – "never try, never know" as is frequently heard here – so must try to grin and bear it. It's annoying though, that is for sure!
These are the same guys nipping at your heels as you walk nearest to the side of the road as possible. The city is so pedestrian unfriendly you feel you're in the way just walking on the sidewalk. Forever expecting to get brushed by someone's side-view mirror or worse. Crossing roads can be a challenge for new arrivals, but once you've got that down there's still often someone coming out of nowhere to keep you on your toes. Fun, I guess.
I get to the coffee shop, but not too early, otherwise I won't know what to do with the rest of the day. Nurse my Americano until its cold and unappetizing and then saunter off back to my room, turning on the AC as soon as I get there. I might take a detour to a minimart to buy a persimmon, dragonfruit or muesli – you can neve have enough muesli – or go to the secondhand clothes shop to buy clothes I don't need.
After soaking up the AC at home for a while, I'll embark on another walk to another cafe or store until I can't tolerate the heat anymore. Should I sit down and have a frosty beverage or a coconut? There are only so many times you can go through the motions like this before you begin to wonder, what am I doing here? Am I over it? Was this ever fun?
Then you realize it's YOU not Cambodia. Stop thinking! Look for ways to be present, to be happy. I need to be more aware of what I'm saying or thinking – "this is boring" for example – and see how it affects my day/reality. So many things to appreciate it should be easier to go around with a smile on my face. But yet, that seems much easier said than done. Time to quit bitchin' and get on with life!
I was also unemployed, which made it easier to leave. My stint as a Google Street View driver had thankfully come to an end the month before. The biggest factor, I think, was that it was time to get my own apartment. Signing a lease and committing to the Sacramento area for the next six months at least. I wasn't sure, as usual. It was time I started paying rent as I'd had luxurious rent-free digs for the duration of my stateside visit but to sign a lease while unemployed was not an enticing prospect.
So here I am now and it's too hot. Hadn't experienced sweaty ball syndrome in a while and can't say I missed it. To make matters worse, it's the fecking "cool" season. That doesn't bode well. I think it's abnormally hot for this time of year, but still. A bead of sweat rolls down my calf as I sit in the shade listening to steel saws, hammers and a crying baby as a gentle breeze trys to convince me that it's comfortable. It is not.
At least I don't stink. Well, my armpits anyway. I've gone back to using Adidas with anti-perspirant, Alzeimer's in the future be damned. I'd prefer something sans alumninum but can't find anything that actually works. I'd also prefer to be drinking bubbly water – say a cold can of La Croix – instead of this sugary Schweppe's Ginger Ale, but seems that beggars can't be choosers. When in Rome, blah blah blah.
When I lived here previously I almost always had wheels, whether it was a bicycle or motorbike. I am not ready to commit to the purchase of either nor willing to rent a moto because there's no place to store it. So that means I am walking most of the time, which has reminded me how annoying it is to do so in this city. To go the 1.4 kilometers from my hastily chosen third-floor studio to a popular riverside cafe, I pass what seems like hundreds of eager tuk-tuk and moto-taxi drivers.
Tuk-tuk? Motoby?
Where you go? What you do today?
You go Killing Fields? Shooting range?
Royal Palace?
You want lady?
Weed?
Massa?
No, thanks, I reply the first few times and then slowly lose the energy to be polite and just say no, shake my head or pretend not to hear them. Can't blame them for trying – "never try, never know" as is frequently heard here – so must try to grin and bear it. It's annoying though, that is for sure!
These are the same guys nipping at your heels as you walk nearest to the side of the road as possible. The city is so pedestrian unfriendly you feel you're in the way just walking on the sidewalk. Forever expecting to get brushed by someone's side-view mirror or worse. Crossing roads can be a challenge for new arrivals, but once you've got that down there's still often someone coming out of nowhere to keep you on your toes. Fun, I guess.
I get to the coffee shop, but not too early, otherwise I won't know what to do with the rest of the day. Nurse my Americano until its cold and unappetizing and then saunter off back to my room, turning on the AC as soon as I get there. I might take a detour to a minimart to buy a persimmon, dragonfruit or muesli – you can neve have enough muesli – or go to the secondhand clothes shop to buy clothes I don't need.
After soaking up the AC at home for a while, I'll embark on another walk to another cafe or store until I can't tolerate the heat anymore. Should I sit down and have a frosty beverage or a coconut? There are only so many times you can go through the motions like this before you begin to wonder, what am I doing here? Am I over it? Was this ever fun?
Then you realize it's YOU not Cambodia. Stop thinking! Look for ways to be present, to be happy. I need to be more aware of what I'm saying or thinking – "this is boring" for example – and see how it affects my day/reality. So many things to appreciate it should be easier to go around with a smile on my face. But yet, that seems much easier said than done. Time to quit bitchin' and get on with life!
