Cambodia: Random Journal Entries; My Dancing Days.

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Six weeks ago I left for Cambodia with a streamed video of my newly introduced Waltz routine on my laptop, and muscle memory from massed practice of a few International Rhumba techniques. The hope and intention was that I would find the time to practice, yet despite packing a beaten up pair of dance shoes, they were never used and in fact were donated when downsizing my backpack. Every intention of locating the Phnom Penh Ballroom was sabotaged by the pressing need to establish relationships with Lawyers and the like.

In Cambodia's climate I'm able to muster about two to three hours of energy a day and therefore make the clear distinction between what has to be accomplished and the 'would be nice to do' activities. Dancing practice definitely falls into the latter category and only three opportunities for dancing presented themselves. The first was at a Khmer wedding in Svey Riang, necessitating participation in that delicate but oh, so boring circle dancing. Another opportunity presented itself during a night on the shores of Rabbit Island over the New Year but brought with it a new set of pressures as the Khmer men in particular, wanted to dance "disco" with the five white foriegn females in their midst.

The one time I found myself waiting around, at the side of the small town road, I decided to lightly dance through the steps of the Waltz, only to notice that people walking towards me, who had been on the same side of the street as me, we're hurriedly crossing over wearing looks of extreme apprehension on their faces. It reminded me of the Good Samaritan story (a vestigial memory from convent school days) although I couldn't blame them one bit!

With a reaction like that to a rather graceful dance, I was led to wonder what the response would be should I decide to practice the sinuous movements required to dance the Rhumba. Body movements like that are never seen here, apparently not even in the mens' clubs according to reports I heard. Most attest to the rather wooden self conscious manner of the Cambodian and Vietnamese women in these establishments when compared to their Thai counterparts.

Anyway, I determined not to draw so much attention to myself so that, even at my age, I ran the risk of putting a sizable proportion of Cambodia's professional ladies out of busuness. Though Lord knows, they could do with the break!

And so I return 'home' tomorrow unfit and unpractised, back into the arms of my more than patient teacher, who will likely give me shit about my lazy ways as he propells me towards readiness for the next competition.

Bless your heart Barry!

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Photos

Dancing Days
This, in Cambodia?

Phnom Penh
Just for looking