Pill Popping, Bus Riding And Becoming A Victim Of Ball Grabbing

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Wednesday was to be a leisure day, a day to finish recovering from my gastro-intestinal problems. The day started as planned, my condition was improving and I even went to purchase a bus ticket to a town called Battambang. I picked up some charcoal tablets at the pharmacy on the advice of a fellow traveller I met, in hopes of aiding my recovery. On the way back to the guesthouse I took a trip through the market as it was a shelter from the midday sun. I watched the vegetable stalls trying to identify foreign spices, fruit and vegetables. The things I do when I have nothing but time to kill. Past the butcher stalls and into the food stall section. I witnessed people enjoying their bowls of noodles, mysterious meats and rice dishes. I continued my aimless wandering only to stop to watch a pretty lady enjoying a little bowl with some dumplings in what looked like a coconut milk. She turned to see me staring and offered me some of her dish. She explained the contents of many of the large stainless bowls on the counter. The stall sold nothing but Khmer desserts. The girl seemed to know her food and was a good conversationalist. After a while of food and travel talk we decided to go enjoy some afternoon beers on such a warm day.

Her name was Qing. She was from Beijing but spoke with a Cockney accent as she has lived in England for a number of years. She was interesting and had story telling eyes. That day we spent enjoying afternoon beers, avoiding the heat of the Cambodian sunshine, storytelling, laughing, talking plans and life. One of my favourite things about travel is the chance encounters, the rendezvous with people that are just intoxicating and pleasurably. The lack of background knowledge of people is a great way to view people with a neutral pair of eyes. The conversation just happens and it is always a pleasure. Back in the faraway land of our normal lives we neglect to meet people in the same manner. It is just really nice to met people and be able to enjoy the moments spent with them from the get go.

The late hours of Wednesday night brought the re-occurrence of my gastro-intestinal problems. That 10:30 bus departure time was beginning to look like mission impossible. I had to cancel and have one more day of recovery. By afternoon I was ready to make the walk to the pharmacy. I picked up some anti biotics over the counter (the box says prescription only) and starting my pill binge. Anti-biotics twice a day, anti-nauseate, quick dissolve Imodium tablets, charcoal tablets and my doxycyclone tablets for malaria prevention. Who thought I would travel this far to become a pill popper.

Friday morning brought the arrival of my departure of Siem Riep. It has been a week here in this town and I need to get some miles under my belt as my travel clock is ticking away. My bus departure time was to be 10:30 and I was to be picked up at about 10 past 10. Nobody showed and I was on the phone sorting out a drive. At 10:30 a moto showed up to collect me. I was wearing my backpack on my back, my shoulder back to the front and the driver had my guitar resting against him while he drove. We ended up in the city at one of the bus tickets sales office watching a very angry woman work three phones. I was confused, my bus should have left 10 minutes ago and also this was not the bus stop. After 20 minutes of watching the angry woman, from a safe distance and smiling to my driver when she got really angry, answer phones the driver puts me back on the moto. We drove for 15 minutes to get to the bus station. It was well past 11 and my bus hadn't even arrived yet. The guys working could only tell us that the bus would be 10 more minutes. It was about 10 minutes past noon when the 10:30 to Battambang was pulling out of the station. The air conditioning didn't really work and was dripping water onto me. It was hot, the bus was overfull, in fact some people were sitting on little plastic chairs in the walkway of the bus. I did meet three nice German dudes on the bus. But it was a long hot journey that afternoon to reach Battambang.

Battambang brought the most annoying tuk tuk driver I have met to date. In fact one of the most annoying people I have ever met in my life. The guy just kept repeating himself plus his voice was nasal and irritating. After dropping us off at a hotel, he waited for us and followed us down the street shouting suggestions of where he could drive us. I was very close to becoming rude. We visited the large market in the small town, that smelled like Big Foot's dick (for lack of a better expression). Battambang is little compared to Siem Riep and the people are less profecient in English, which means their sales people are much more reserved. It was a nice town with little excitement.

I left with the German guys the next morning on the bus to Phnom Penh. Upon arrival in Phnom Penh, we went our separate ways, I hate the decision making involved in group travel so as the guys were debating on what they wanted to do, I jumped in a tuk tuk knowing where I was going. Back to the Darra Reang Sey Hotel I stayed my first time in the city. It was nice to be back in Phnom Penh. The noise, the dust, the sounds, the smells, the aggressive tuk tuk drivers and just the chaos that makes it the place it is. I was greeted at the front door of the hotel by a tuk tuk driver I met my last time here. "How are you?" "Where your girlfriend". I think I told the drivers that I bought Mandy somewhere and we were on our honeymoon our first time in Phnom Penh. So maybe her storytelling in Siem Riep was just a response to my tall tales the first time in Phnom Penh.

Sunday was a day to drop off my laundry, relax and figure out what I wanted to do next. I dropped off my bag of laundry at a local shop and went for a morning walk. Because it was laundry day, I was wearing my last t-shirt and a pair of jeans rolled up halfway up my calves. The morning sun was strong, I was getting hot. I decided a cheap pair of shorts might be a good investment. I found a nice shop with loads of clothing on display and in no time I had a nice pair of shorts to try on. I asked to see the changing room. The guy look confused and pointing to wear I was standing. It was laundry day, I was hot, and I had a lack of unmentionables on. He lead me to the back room of the shop or the front room of his home, same difference. With the sounds of children playing upstairs and the 50 year old shop owner non-discretely gaping around the corner I was naked. I glanced over to see the man watching me undress and dress again. Once I successfully mounted the shorts, the shop owner was over to check the fit. First the length, then the waist followed by a lingering hand cup on my crotch. The kind of crotch grab young men receive at a bar from an intoxicated aggressive middle aged cougar lady. I was a little shocked by his behaviour, but not upset. Then he watched me change again ( I like to thing he was curious at the grandness of the size of my penis as the rumour is Asian men suffer from baby dick). Thanks to growing up with my best friend Patrick, I was unphased by the incident. Patrick through youth and young manhood loved the idea of embarrassing me in public. This included telling as many girls at the bar I was gay, hugging me from behind, playing with my hair, kissing me and grabbing my crotch. Ball grabs to me have always involved me trying to not get embarrassed or upset. So I insulted the man with a low offer for the shorts, he even talked himself down to 50 cents to what I offered and I wouldn’t budge. He touched me, the cheap shorts should have been free.

Cambodia makes me feel. I have been here 2 weeks now, I’ve adjusted to the shock and the judgements and opinions have started. I’m beginning to get irritated by becoming a dollar sign because I am a tourist. It happens in other places by here seems to be much more intense and disheartening. I want to buy from every child I meet, but there is only so much demand that I have for bracelets, postcards, books, flutes and key chains. While the German guys and I sat at a bus stop in Battambang and watched a mother carry her two children to the crowded street corner​​​​​​ bus stop, and let them loose to go beg for money from the white people. Then I witnessed a man on a make shift wheel chair of nothing more then a some boards and bicycle wheels begging for money but from everyone. I felt much better watching this man, at least he was genuine in his needs and would ask his country men as well as the tourists for some help. I’ve become irritated with the tuk tuk drivers shouting at me from great distances away, then when I get there they want to sell me drugs or young women and cant seem to understand that I really mean no. I understand the lack of jobs here, the lack of infrastructure and the competitiveness to make ends meet and at times I feel myself compassionate to the people I meet but when there is a lack of genuineness I just get irritated and frustrated.

I guess I am having an affair with this country. It intrigues me, it gets me hooked, then it disappoints me, then the cycle begins again. The smiling people, the chats with the locals who open up with their opinions or questions, playing and laughing with the children, then the people who get upset with your non purchases, their sneers, their phoniness, their see through stares. Turns out Cambodia is just like everywhere else I have ever been. As amazed, inspired and joyful people make me feel they also disappoint, frustrate,and just make me no longer want to be a part of this race. Turns out we are all just people.

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Photos

Tom and Jerry Cartoons
Cambodians just love television