Raining Lizards

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Hi,

The other night I was waiting in the reception of a friend’s guesthouse, when I heard a strange slapping sound on the tiles behind me. I presumed a mop or something had fallen from the wall, but you have to have a check don’t you? Turns out two Geckos had absolutely decked it off the roof. They didn’t look injured, more just very embarrassed. I never thought lizards could look sheepish; their faces don’t particularly lend themselves to much expression…but they were definitely doing it. The male fled the scene, trousers round his ankles. I honestly didn’t know where to look.

“We were…we were dancing.”

The no-pants dance, I bet.

My moustache is pretty horrific at the minute. When I drink from a water bottle the hair is lifted from my lip and bristles against the plastic. When I lift my head from the pool, water runs for several seconds off my beard. I’ve started to drink and swim less as a result. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before but I’m currently in the middle of a ‘Beard-Off’ with Rich. The rules are pretty simple. First one to shave loses - with the exception of the neck which may be shaved at any time. The loser may freely shave his beard but must maintain a healthy moustache for at least two full days. No trimming is allowed. We look terrible, but I’ve developed a system of venting anger directly into facial hair growth. It’s pretty calm out here so I don’t look like a Scottish Gandalf just yet. Give it a few days.

We’ve completed an Avery for two sets of love-birds at the orphanage. It took me a full day in about 36 degrees to make it escape-proof, but it’s been worth it. Monday will be filled with raking gravel pretty much all day. Can’t wait.

The other night we left a restaurant at about 8:30pm and on the way home decided to see if our renewed visas had arrived at the travel shop. Upon our arrival our visas were handed over and then for some reason the manager decided to invite us into his home for a drink.

We considered this for about a second before running through a few basic facts. Beer? Free? It doesn’t take a genius to work out that we accepted the offer graciously.

We wound up sitting around a table with several of his younger friends, and his young twins (Bee and Boy) ran around in the background. Cambodian kids are funny. Soon after we were seated his wife arrived with platters of food - mainly beef strips cooked in different ways, it didn't look all that appealing but I can confirm that it tasted fantastic. We were given ice cold beer and talked about our experiences in Cambodia. Unfortunately this was accompanied by the worst music I’ve ever heard in my life. Listening to Cambodia’s pop music is a bit like stabbing yourself in the eye with a lobster claw; it’s painful and you don’t really understand why or how that whole situation came about. This has no bearing on the previous “Crabbing” chapter or the excellent hospitality we received from our generous host.

None of this could ever happen in England, if it did everyone’s home would be emptied of its contents in about a day. I mean, sure the music would be better but it probably doesn’t balance out. Well...lobster claw to the eye? Maybe.

It was a very surreal scene. Three of us in our early twenties sat with middle-aged Cambodian businessmen discussing the state of things. It was the first time that a Cambodian had openly discussed the Khmer Rouge since my arrival. It was difficult to hear and unsurprisingly moving. After many beers and some pretty tasty snack food we headed back the guesthouse. I was astounded by the hospitality we received, brought about because this man wanted to ensure that we had a good experience of his country. I couldn’t really imagine being inspired to do something similar. He thanked us for visiting Cambodia and was grateful to us for teaching the children. This isn’t really a rare occurrence…

In relation to this, I was also speaking to Smi (the house father) whilst working on the Avery. He's excellent at pointing out my terrible hammer technique and unskilled working hands. He told me that he used to be a soldier in the Cambodian army from the age of around 15-16 to about 25. He fought the Vietnamese occupation and then spent years fighting the Khmer Rouge. He has endless scars up his legs as a result.

It’s very easy to develop close friendships quickly over here, people seem to be generally very open and welcoming. We’ve been attending the same food stall for about 5 weeks now and have become pretty good friends with the women that run it. Their names are Leena, Sien and Gunthea…and they know us as Rachael (Richard) Frish (Chris) and Dickole (Nicole) - It goes without saying that I dodged a bullet on that one. Leena sat down with us yesterday and told us that she was really good at singing. This kind of thing usually ends up with some kind of joke, so I asked her to sing a song to see where she was going with it. To our surprise she began singing a traditional khmer song and had an amazing voice. We ended up listening to her for about 40 minutes or so before heading home. Gunthea sang something too…unfortunately she wasn’t quite so gifted and her song reminded me of something akin to the fast food rockers. Thankfully, this also sounded bad to Cambodian ears and she was swiftly stopped.

I’ll update this with pictures and hopefully add a second entry tomorrow. At the minute I think I’ve only got about half a pint of liquid remaining in my body. If I were to urinate now it would probably kill me.

Take care,

Chris

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