Bodybuilding in Cambodia

God this picture is gross.

Here I am, practically inhaling a bag of boiled peanuts, still sweating on my newly made up bed, waiting for the air con to kick in after a massive workout at the local gym. Fortunately I have to shell the peanuts otherwise there would just be an empty bag and only vague memories. Trying to get some protein and pack on some lean mass. Resting on my bed trying to grow.

Please don't believe me. Those days are gone. I am sweating because I did just workout, but there was nothing massive about it. I am also eating peanuts, but not for the protein. It was what was available on my bike ride back to the hotel and will tide me over until dinner. Peanuts, papaya, fried rice, mango salad, beer....is that a good diet? I don't really care to be honest, it tastes good and it fits my budget.

I just found my third local gym. I'm trying to get in better shape after nearly eight months of the occasional pushup and some half-assed leg raises in the hotel prior to eating a late breakfast. My triceps were sagging and my hips were getting way too big and it's hard to look desirable in an undersized t-shirt. So, with lack of anything better to do in the midday heat here in Cambodia, I have sought out a place to get it all back. I'm pretty sure my mind is playing tricks on me.

The first place I found was a dinky little gym next to my hotel. It was $2 to use the gym, which was basically an assembly of rusty, ancient equipment that remarkably still functioned. I got a towel and it did the trick. The other locals sharing the gym were usually shirtless and quite lean and I would have gone topless myself if I wasn't a bit self-conscious about the relative flaccidity of my abs.

I went there twice and decided to seek out other options. I found another place, a proper gym, with a big sign saying so. The place was called GYM. It was a bit farther of a pedal, but so much better. Still no air conditioning or fans, but it was only $1 and had better equipment. There were more shirtless dudes, mostly friendly, and it was a cheaper, better workout. I just didn't like the relatively dirty floor, which easily found its way onto my drenched clothes.

I worked out at the second local place a couple of times and the novelty wore off. I decided to find a more upscale place, possibly a gym within one of the many five star hotels. At least then I might take to the treadmill or the exercise bike being in an air-conditioned environment. And I also might meet the right people who could provide possible job leads. It was a win-win really.

The only problem was that most of these "gyms" were less equipped than the ancient, this-machine-is-going-to-break-on-you local places and they were way more expensive. The best one had an enormous pool and a modern air conditioned gym for $130 a month. The others ranged from $50-110, which I don't really need to say is out of my price range. I'll just sweat it up at the local places, I thought.

I had heard of a few other local gyms and today I thought I'd venture out and find the one near the Crocodile Farm. I had been out a couple days ago and couldn't find anything that resembled a gym, but I found it helped to ask. I motioned like I was lifting weights and pointed in various directions and soon I was going over the bridge by the farm, veering a slight left and there she was, right next to the ping pong club. And I'm talking table tennis, not the ping pong one finds in Bangkok.

This gym was even better equipped than the last two and had even more shirtless dudes, some of them might even be in the picture posted above. Best of all, it was only 2000 riel. That's 50 cents. I got a towel, a bottle of water and away I went. There were at least double the number of folks partaking in muscle building and a couple of other foreigners. I ignored them as they did me, which seems to be the usual tendency in situations like this, for whatever reason.

The best feature in this gym, aside from the various bodybuilding pictures posted on mirrors throughout the gym was one piece of equipment that had a missing seat. A bicycle seat had been installed in it's place. I think I'll bring my camera next time. I have to say the people weren't as friendly, which is typical of meatheads. The more serious people are about bodybuilding there seems to be a greater likelihood they might be an asshole. But perhaps I was taken to be an asshole too.

What I also noticed in Cambodian gyms is there are practically no women. The first gym had a couple girls manning the front door, taking money and handing out towels. The second gym had one female patron and she didn't stay long. And today's gym had a couple women also taking money, handing out towels and guarding the beverage display. Not surprising considering none of these gyms had much cardio equipment or yoga classes and because they probably don't want to be gawked at. And they would have been, by me.

Anyway, I suppose I will continue to throw some weights around by the crocodiles until the next best place comes around. However, I doubt I'll find one better for that price. So, I've got my gym sorted. Now I need transportation and an apartment. I think I can sort out a bike tomorrow morning for around $40 and I hear an apartment for $100 a month is not unheard of. I'm not terribly enthused by the first three I saw yesterday, but I have a feeling things will get better. And then, all I'll need is a job. Slowly but surely...

Good morning Cambodia!

Here I am in Siam Reap, again, and I am loving it. Not in the same way one loves McDonald's, from the pit of one's stomach, but from the heart. It has the right vibe, a place I could call home for a while. We'll see. I just walked by a restaurant, there are many here, where a waiter was spraying Raid on all the tablecloths. What the fuck! Of course you don't want insects on the table, but is that really necessary? I stopped, eyes partially bulging out of my head and asked as much. He said they used placemats to infer that the poison wouldn't be in contact with the food even if it fell off one's plate. Oh...in that case. I won't be eating there, but makes me wonder what all the other restaurants do to rid insects from their tabletops.

As I walked the alley this morning between Pub Street and the street adjacent to the Old Market, I searched for a cafe, ideally with air-conditioning because I am weak. It is insanely hot for 10 o'clock in the morning. My clothes are clinging to my sticky skin, which is not a nice feeling, ever, but especially not right after stepping out the door in the morning. I just freshened up! Anyway, I found a "cafe" - just a wee restaurant really - and the relative silence and cool breeze along with the chilled coconut are a perfect combination to start my day. The ant on the tablecloth, which eventually ran onto my keyboard and possibly under the keys had me wondering, if only briefly, if perhaps the other restaurant had the right idea. Don't ask, don't tell?

Oh the breeze feels amazing. Let me tell you. My coconut is gone now, as is my stream of consciousness. Oh well, I guess coconut juice saps creative potential. I'll be more aware next time I decide to post to my blog. Instead, I will savor the breeze, enjoy the people wandering, skating, sweating and begging. Not that I enjoy the latter, but it is somehow entertaining. Actually, as I write this, a young girl on rollerblades mere steps outside the restaurant continues to ask for a drink. I think I've changed my mind. Still, it's a part of life here and must be accepted.

Time to change my room. I need air-conditioning. Time to rent a bike. I need wheels. Time to apply some sunscreen. I need to protect my skin. Time to get some food. I am getting hungry. Time to visit the orphanage. I need some hugs and smiles. Time to meet a girl. I need some company. Time to get busy. I am tired of being so lazy!

Back in Bangkok

What? Here I am at Coffee World in Siam Paragon in Bangkok. Again. The fourth time I've been in Bangkok this year. It is getting more and more familiar with every visit. The mall is slowly waking up around me and still isn't very busy for nearly noon on a Tuesday. It feels like the last two months in America have been a blur. Was I really just there? Amazing.

The coffee is better in America, I'll tell you what. And it's cheaper. But hey, it's one of the few things besides electronics that is actually more expensive over here. I can handle that. My toothbrush, razor and shampoo were on par with prices I'd actually expect in SE Asia. Can't find those in Walgreens at those prices. Anyway, they probably make versions for the SE Asian market that they wouldn't even sell on the Western market. And well, if so, that's fine by me.

My voyage back over the Pacific went relatively smooth. I hate saying goodbyes and so suffice it to say, that was the most difficult part of the journey. I arrived at SFO with plenty of time to spare and was able to relax a bit prior to boarding my United flight to Tokyo Narita airport. United was actually pretty decent. I was impressed. A lot of legroom, great entertainment options and decent food for an airline. The lavatory was big enough for a mile high orgy if one was so inclined. Usually they're so cramped it would be a difficult endeavor to even attempt to join the mile high club. I did look around, but it didn't seem that anyone else was interested. Instead, I attempted a few crosswords, listened to a lot of music, watched the movie Think Like A Man and tried to sleep as much as possible.

We arrived in Tokyo around 4:30pm local time after nearly 11 hours in the air. Breezed through security, had enough time to post an update on Facebook, brush my teeth and stretch my legs prior to boarding the last leg of the journey to Bangkok. Departure time was 5:50pm and the ensuing six hour flight to Bangkok was less pleasurable than the first, but still bearable. It seems the ANA flight was on an older Boeing and the legroom was more suitable for the standard Japanese passenger. Fortunately, it was a shorter flight and I was able to sleep a little, listen to more music and watch another relatively unmemorable movie.

We touched down at Suvarnabhumi Airport at 10:30pm and I hustled to Immigration. As I arrived, an airport employee opened the lane ropes to a whole new bevy of Immigration Officials just waiting to stamp passports. It's a rare and pleasant experience to breeze through immigration, especially in Bangkok. I did have a short wait at the baggage carousel, but that wait caused me to scan signs and I found the Airport Rail Link ran until midnight, which gave me sufficient time to get to my hotel without having to take a taxi. I got my pack, boarded the train, changed lines at Phaya Thai and changed again at Siam Square catching the last train of the evening at 11:58pm to my stop at National Stadium - the end of the line for me and for the train.

I was worried that somehow my reservation might have been erroneously taken, but after a quick pit stop at 7/11 for some water, I rounded the bend on Soi Kasem San 1, mentally crossing my fingers, found the gate to the Pranee Building still unlocked and a woman still awake at her desk upon my arrival at the cheapest accommodation available in this neck of the woods. I was scribbled into her book and proceeded to show her my passport, pay the 350 baht and take the keys. My knees ached as I headed up the stairs. It was just after midnight and I was happy to have made it "home" with so few, if any obstacles in my path.

As I came to the second landing, things began to look familiar. I had only stayed at the Pranee once before, in June of this year, prior to departing for the states. I had caught the first train of that morning to the airport. And here on this day in August, my return, I caught the last train of the night. I checked my key, room 34 and thought it might have been the same room I had been in previously. I opened the door and sure enough, my old flip flops were there on the rack outside the bathroom. I had asked the owner if I could trade flip flops as his fake Havaianas were a better fit, if not more worn than my undersized Hippos, that I had recently purchased in Nepal. He had surprisingly obliged.

Everything else was the same too, from the blue towels to the faded blue floral sheets. I avoided the dusty wardrobe, setting my pack to the side and unpacking only the necessities. I locked the door, chain included, took a shower, brushed my teeth, inserted my waxy earplugs, flipped off the lights and pulled up the towel-resembling-a-bed-sheet and slept relatively soundly until eight in the morning. And here I am. Back in Bangkok. Now what?