It’s getting quiet 'round these lampshades, eh? Our apologies for that. No excuses really. Just feeling a little short on words here on the e-frontier. It’s one thing to write about out-of-the-ordinary adventures; it’s another to try to conjure up tales to tell of normality.
Over the past few weeks, our days have really become a wonderfully stable and predictable schedule. We know where we’ll be and what we’ll be doing Tuesdays at 10:30am, or Thursdays at 7:00pm, or Saturdays at noon. And we’re really enjoying it! But as we’ve been going about our daily routines, we’ve learned a valuable lesson to impart:
If being white is alright, then being Khmer is pretty fly!
The far off corner of the world in South East Asia can be a pretty unnerving place to visit. Having no idea what to expect when we arrived in Cambodia, we were quick to draw a few boundaries both for comfort and safety—or so we thought. For example, hopping on a moto with any driver looking under the age of 15 was off limits. Especially adhered to were the rules about food and water: We steered clear of sugar cane juice sold on the street in a recently-“rinsed”, continuously-reused glass. Purchasing room temperature meat from fly-infested stalls in the market was a no-no. Most of all, using bottled water to brush your teeth while visiting the surrounding provinces was a “must do.”
We thought we were set. Wise warranted wanderers we were.
Since that time, we’ve been stretched. Sometimes by choice. Sometimes by force; swallowing any and all seemingly rational defenses, and just doing it. So was the case last Thursday evening.
In one of our previous posts, we tried to give a taste of the culinary scene here in Cambodia. At the time of writing, we had yet to sample from the lowest rung of the three-tiered restaurant ladder (1. sketchy street restaurants, 2. pleasant, homely restaurants, 3. classy fine dinning). Last Thursday we broke that streak, and therefore subjected ourselves to one the grandest gastronomical adventures known to the western digestive system.
Why would you do that? How much money had someone dared you to eat there?
The restaurant belonged to one of our friends and co-workers at Rescue. In addition to having a great personality, sense of humour, and passion for his country, his people, and his God, this guy is one of the hardest workers we’ve met. Not only does he don his title as Translator & Bible Teacher at Rescue, he also is a university student studying Business Management, a tuk-tuk driver, and a marketing rep for a local company. Recently, he added to that list. He is now the proud owner/operator of Phnom Penh’s new 007 Restaurant. Located in his garage/living room, the 007 gives diners the opportunity to feast upon ‘sunburned’ beef (as their poster labeled it), charred lard, or numerous soup-like concoctions of all sizes, smells, and contents.
All in all, a great experience was had by all. We had a great meal, and had no nasty reminders of it in the following hours or days. He had one of his better nights of business. Khmer passers-by flooded into the restaurant when they saw us eating there; apparently, it’s a sight not often seen. It’s amazing how a couple of white folks can draw a crowd just doing everyday Cambodian activities.
And so, it is with our newly gained Khmer experiences that we say, maybe these Khmer folks are onto some things over here. Drinking your coffee from a bag in the morning is great! Why not chow down on lard, or just throw it all in a brothy bowl of soup? (...I'm sensing a severe lack of volunteers for future dinner guests).
Sometimes playing it too safe means you miss the meat of the matter. Though, let’s be honest, sometimes you’re ok when that missed meat passes you by...especially if its thrown over the back of a moto enroute to market.
Oh, and as for those other rules to live by, we still try to avoid motos when junior is behind the wheel. Same goes for the sugar cane glasses and the market meat. As for brushing your teeth with bottle water, unfortunately, as our second package of Imodium will testify, we learned that lesson the hard way…
Over the past few weeks, our days have really become a wonderfully stable and predictable schedule. We know where we’ll be and what we’ll be doing Tuesdays at 10:30am, or Thursdays at 7:00pm, or Saturdays at noon. And we’re really enjoying it! But as we’ve been going about our daily routines, we’ve learned a valuable lesson to impart:
If being white is alright, then being Khmer is pretty fly!
The far off corner of the world in South East Asia can be a pretty unnerving place to visit. Having no idea what to expect when we arrived in Cambodia, we were quick to draw a few boundaries both for comfort and safety—or so we thought. For example, hopping on a moto with any driver looking under the age of 15 was off limits. Especially adhered to were the rules about food and water: We steered clear of sugar cane juice sold on the street in a recently-“rinsed”, continuously-reused glass. Purchasing room temperature meat from fly-infested stalls in the market was a no-no. Most of all, using bottled water to brush your teeth while visiting the surrounding provinces was a “must do.”
We thought we were set. Wise warranted wanderers we were.
Since that time, we’ve been stretched. Sometimes by choice. Sometimes by force; swallowing any and all seemingly rational defenses, and just doing it. So was the case last Thursday evening.
In one of our previous posts, we tried to give a taste of the culinary scene here in Cambodia. At the time of writing, we had yet to sample from the lowest rung of the three-tiered restaurant ladder (1. sketchy street restaurants, 2. pleasant, homely restaurants, 3. classy fine dinning). Last Thursday we broke that streak, and therefore subjected ourselves to one the grandest gastronomical adventures known to the western digestive system.
Why would you do that? How much money had someone dared you to eat there?
The restaurant belonged to one of our friends and co-workers at Rescue. In addition to having a great personality, sense of humour, and passion for his country, his people, and his God, this guy is one of the hardest workers we’ve met. Not only does he don his title as Translator & Bible Teacher at Rescue, he also is a university student studying Business Management, a tuk-tuk driver, and a marketing rep for a local company. Recently, he added to that list. He is now the proud owner/operator of Phnom Penh’s new 007 Restaurant. Located in his garage/living room, the 007 gives diners the opportunity to feast upon ‘sunburned’ beef (as their poster labeled it), charred lard, or numerous soup-like concoctions of all sizes, smells, and contents.
Naturally, when invited to give ‘er a whirl, how could we say no? As he proudly showed us around his new endeavor, we were greeted by his sister, his niece, and his wife; all equally glowing with ear-to-ear smiles.
They sat us down on plastic chairs, wiped the table of remnants left from the previous diners, and handed us two cans of warm Coca-Cola. They then hurried about preparing our meal. She chopped meat and veggies, and threw them into the massive fire-heated cauldron. He drew spoonful after spoonful from the aforementioned cauldron to ensure the contents were up to par, tossing in different sauces and powders when he wasn’t convinced. We opted for the sunburned beef…at least we had a photo of what it might look like.
Within 10 minutes, we were seated together cooking beef, green tomatoes, onions, and cabbage on a bbq-esque contraption atop our table. It was pretty entertaining to watch each other try to flip and pick morsels off without either dropping the food or melting our plastic chopsticks.
All in all, a great experience was had by all. We had a great meal, and had no nasty reminders of it in the following hours or days. He had one of his better nights of business. Khmer passers-by flooded into the restaurant when they saw us eating there; apparently, it’s a sight not often seen. It’s amazing how a couple of white folks can draw a crowd just doing everyday Cambodian activities.
And so, it is with our newly gained Khmer experiences that we say, maybe these Khmer folks are onto some things over here. Drinking your coffee from a bag in the morning is great! Why not chow down on lard, or just throw it all in a brothy bowl of soup? (...I'm sensing a severe lack of volunteers for future dinner guests).
Sometimes playing it too safe means you miss the meat of the matter. Though, let’s be honest, sometimes you’re ok when that missed meat passes you by...especially if its thrown over the back of a moto enroute to market.
Oh, and as for those other rules to live by, we still try to avoid motos when junior is behind the wheel. Same goes for the sugar cane glasses and the market meat. As for brushing your teeth with bottle water, unfortunately, as our second package of Imodium will testify, we learned that lesson the hard way…
1 comment:
Hello, hello. I am seriously addicted to your blog. I really look forward to new posts. Now I'm having to reread. That's the real test of a good blog. It bears rereading.
I hope that you will be continuing your blog upon your return to the snowbelt. much love and much anticipation for your next entry.
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