Jingle Pig

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Errrrrrrrrrrrrr...

So this is probably going to be the most eventful and surreal blog entry so far, for two reasons:

1: I think I'm possibly still mildly drunk from my wonderful birthday celebrations, and;

2: This place is absurdly weird and makes about as much sense as a Gecko living in an air conditioner, or live pigs strapped to the back of bikes...this could go on.

Firstly, thanks all of you who sent me kind birthday wishes, it was very much appreciated and really made my day when I checked the internet. For those of you who neglected to acknowledge the day of my birth, I possibly know where you live and will be issuing strongly worded letters of complaint to each and every one of you. That's right... and it will be really awkward because you won't know what to say in your reply.

Life at the Orphanage is quite simply bizarre. I can't get Christmas songs out of my head. Every time I have a shower (which is admittedly VERY occasionally) I sing about Christmas. What makes things much worse, is that the kids at the Orphanage for some obscure reason sing Jingle Bells at every opportunity. Now... this gets a bit strange, because on the plane arriving into Siem Reap we heard Jingle Bells over the sound system. So, OK maybe it's a big deal in Asia.... but it doesn't explain why the children sing the words "Jingle Pig"

So everywhere we go one of us is now singing "Jingle Pig, Jingle Pig, Jingle all the... oh for f*%k sake!"

A Choy is the worst culprit for this. Today I started getting him back by saying "Jingle Pig A Choy", to which he looks disgruntled and then says "NO!" - I insist - "Jingle Pig A Choy!" - "NO!!" - then he punched me in the nose so I left it.

I'd love to know what a 4 year old Cambodian child with barely any knowledge of the English Language imagines when hearing the words "Jingle Pig", what could he possibly think of to make him so adamant that he is NOT a Jingle Pig?

I changed it slightly to: "Jingle Pig Crocodah?" (Crocodile) to which he looked contended and said: "YES".

I would be eternally grateful of your assistance in finding out exactly what, or who is a Jingle Pig... it chips away at my sanity daily.

Enough of that. We went to see a DR. the other day. We didn't have any particular ailment we required treating, nor were we concerned in any way about our health. We went because it was there and it was...well it was fish, shit loads of fish. The DR himself was called DR Fish, and for $3 only he promised that the fish in this pond would eat all the dead flesh off our feet. The advertising text is quite graphic... I can't remember exactly but it's something along the lines of: "Feed our fish with your dead skin!" We found this place in the middle of the "Night Market" - if a hundred replica's of the first shop you see is your bag - this is the market for you.

So we had our feet washed with a towel and then gradually dipped them into a small pond full of small grey fish. There was no comforting science to back up the experience...just promises that the fish would consume our flesh. This didn't settle my nerves very much. The second our feet touched the water the fish swarmed us (maybe 10-15 per foot?) it tickled like hell! We were both in hysterics for the first five minutes and then the bubble-like sensation gradually faded. It is possible that the fish may have eaten our nerves...and I'm also fairly sure that one of the fish that was MUCH bigger than the rest may have actually been a piranha or a small shark. All in all it was an excellent experience and I would highly recommend it to people who enjoy having their skin eaten by fish. I can confidently say now, that I am one of those people and in this I find myself one step closer to discovering "myself"...or at least the actual foot beneath my horrifically unclean feet.

So, as I've already stated in my unashamedly self-glorifying way. It was my birthday the other day. I woke up feeling like a sack of crap, but this was lifted slightly by the opening of my birthday cards. It was also really nice that many of the volunteers remembered and made several jokes about my life being all down hill after 21. Cheers.

No, but seriously, it was a great day. Me and Rich took our first class and the kids were great. We taught them animals and I've incorporated "and what does the tiger do?" to a chorus of roars from the classroom. They really don't need to know that but my aim is to make their classes fun. They'll learn enough just listening to us talking, and if they have fun then they'll talk about it outside of the lesson and maybe learn more? Besides that, I like the game and I don't feel I need to justify myself any further.

Plans were made to meet a place called the Soup Dragon at 8pm and it was good to see so many people make it. Nick, the head of the Cambodian Orphan Fund, also made an appearance. This was good because he rarely gets a chance to have an actual break from work. In the markets the locals know him as "Mr Nick" and beg him to take their kids into the Orphanage. Elsewhere he's known for his work and is dealing with potential sponsorship.

We were also lucky enough to get a table on the rooftop with a great view of the full moon. It kept on disappearing behind the clouds, unfortunately igniting irregular bursts of my sense of humor... I'm not entirely sure all of the Australians get it.

"The moon can't decide. Should I come out? Will anyone care? Ah, I'm not really sure that I mind."

The look I received complimented the clear and unprovoked burst of my ridiculous lunacy. She was right to do it.

Coconut milk and beer is going to turn my neck into one long piece of head.

So that was that. It was a great meal, I could tell you about it but you're probably more interested as to how and why we ended up going to a gay bar and getting in a round of "blow jobs" from a dubious woman who almost certainly had a penis...possibly involved in some kind of "man-gina"set up at the time.

It was our German friend Ben's idea. He said he knew of this "really great bar" that we should check out. The second we arrived Nari confirmed that this was in fact the local gay bar. We went in anyway because it looked like the type of place that a young man should go for a celebratory birthday drink. That's when we were given two realistic options:

We were either going to go for:

A: The Cocksucking Cowboy, or:
B: A shot entitled - "Blow Job"

Obviously, not wanting the commitment the cowboy would surely bring, we went for a round of blow-jobs. Nari wound up one of the waiters who began stroking Rich's shoulder seductively. Hilarious. Ben struggled to explain himself but ultimately decided that it was a good choice after all.

The plan from here was to quickly move on to a bar called Angkor What?, we stayed there till finish and at this point decided that we should probably take the drinking easy as we were teaching kids the next morning.

In the next bar Ben bought 3 pitchers of vodka, rum and whiskey. We were down to 5 people at this point. Things got a little messy and lets just say that shapes were thrown on the dance floor that...well lets just say that you couldn't handle them. Oh, they were all coming out. We were feeding the chickens, driving the car. We even brought in the Dronfield two-step. Cambodia has never seen anything like it...and neither have you.

Oh, there should also be some video footage of me doing some traditional Khmer dancing on facebook soon. I've mixed in a bit of night fever in there, and some hardcore Belgian trance moves. I'll keep you updated. Oh, if you read this Russell, you're wanted by the crazy police for your absurd dance techniques in this video.

We wound down the night with just me and Rich playing pool against several prostitutes and a bar worker. Somehow in our inebriated state, we played some world class pool and won 3 - 2 in games. Generally the girls here who also happen to be prostitutes for moneys sake seem to be pretty normal girls in a very difficult situation. In England you'd have to hang around some pretty ropey places but in SE Asia it's normal for prostitutes to frequent the pool tables of upmarket bars like the Temple Club where we were for the second part of the night. So far we've had no trouble at all from them as I'm sure they can tell we're not interested.

This applies to all but one of these girls... who sat behind us giving us verbal abuse and occasionally trying to cop-a-feel when we took our shots from the far end of the table. It was the most bizarre attempt at attracting a mate I've ever seen. Ultimately, we agreed to tell her that we would rather sleep with each other then mate with a creature such as her.

There was an awkward silence on the way home as we both took a moment to question some very basic principles.

Ultimately it was a pretty unforgettable birthday and a very very funny night, so thank you to all you clowns and shape-throwers who lit up the night with your excessive drinking and misguided dance techniques.

Also - thanks for all the messages and comments on the blog, it's great to hear from you.

Take care & hope you're all well,

Chris,

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Photos

Skipping
Nimorl with the skipping rope at the orphanage.

Shamed Dog
I caught this dog eating out of the most horrific bin on the planet. His expression says: "It's not what it looks like..."

Nimorl in class
Rich managed to get a picture of Nimorl sitting still. He's usually sprinting in random directions and generally going crazy. He's somehow top of the class.

Comments

[booyah]

thoughts...
mammoth (for that is what i shall now be calling you)... i've read all three of these blogs, and i anm now comvinced you are a b1tch! it sounds like you are having an immense time (headbutts to the nuts excluded), and i am extremely jealous of you (though my groin is not)! have been giggling like a moron reading these, i especially like echo the ghecko, and the chicken-vulture. i have not idea why, that C-V tranny picture makes me p1ss myself laughing! more dammit! re jingle pig; maybe it's a special breed of pig, like homer simpson's spiderpig? best i can think of. re aussie's not getting you; sod the aussie's keep it weird and english, throw your ridiculous shapes, and get your feet eaten by fish! do it son! re your birthday; i foolishly sent a text thinking you'd get it. on your birthday. so i didn't forget, i jsut sent the wishes in the wrong format. so, belatedly (but also aditionally) happy birthday. re pictures; not seeing many on facebook, sort it out! re us doing travelling; i'm bored off my face here at work, get your mammoth ass (that's gonna stick, beleive me!) back here soon so we can sort out getting out here again! facebook me pal, and keep having a great time booyah :-D ps, stop getting headbutted and shocked!