Cambodia's government was recently ranked the most corrupt in ASEAN, bumping Myanmar out of that coveted (?) position. Still, there are signs of hope and voice. There is a Centre for Media Freedom next-door to the Jesuit-run cafe. (I don't think they're affiliated, but who knows?) Yesterday I spotted the Cambodia Centre for Human Rights.
I know, I know -- I can't and won't get involved in politics, but I can at least observe signs, can't I?
Lest anyone watching me photograph this sign deduce that I'm some radical element, I turned around and took a shot of the lovely house just across the street. Damn! I lopped off the peak of the roof in the picture. I am rubbish as a photographer, always have been. There is plenty of poverty and squalor in PP, but there are a few beautifully maintained/restored French colonial properties, too.
I finally arrived at LEC, and I signed up for a one-hour class on M-F mornings, starting on Monday, 7 April. As I've mentioned before, between the long and short forms of each vowel and the ridiculously compounded dipthongs -- I heard one today that sounded like oh-ooh-uh -- there are over 60 distinct vowel sounds in Khmer. Oh, and the LEC manager informed me that regional variation is rife. My teacher on Mon-Wed is from Takeo Province, "and she says things differently". I'm not sure where Mr. Thur-Fri is from. So in addition to speaking at the level of a 2 year-old, I'll now speak at the level of a 2 year-old from the sticks. I thought of asking for the teacher who speaks "BBC Khmer", but I think she might have missed the reference. We'll see how this goes.
This morning Sopheak, the landlady's son, arrived at my door with the paperwork from "the Authority". I thanked him profusely, reimbursed him for the fees he incurred. (He explained that when his father went to the Authority, they never charged him anything, but the father is now ill, and the son evidently hasn't got his clout.) But no matter -- the papers were what the people at Acleda Bank wanted to see, and they opened my new bank account.
Just a note about money in Cambodia: There is a local currency, the riel. USD1 = KHR4,000. Or inversely, KHR1,000 = USD0.25. The largest riel note printed at present is 10,000, which amounts to USD2.50. In other words, I would need a wheelbarrow of riel to pay my rent. So Cambodia uses US dollars, and instead of coins, they use riel to make change. I sort of wondered what kind of bank I might find here.
Acleda is a real bank. The young banker pounced on the fact that I signed the application form with my middle initial, but I'd not signed my passport with it. She had me add a note to the application to affirm that both signatures are mine. The person next to me could not write her name, but the banker pulled out her magnifying glass to compare today's thumb print to the one they had on record. My ATM/debit card is on order, but meanwhile, they set me up for smart-phone banking, and I can make withdrawals from their ATMS using my phone. Cool, is it not? I can also use the phone to top up my mobile SIMs and pay my electric bill. Best of all, Acleda has the widest branch and ATM coverage in Cambodia. I did get nostalgic for a moment, thinking of opening the account at Maybank, but there are only two branches in the Kingdom and -- get this -- my Malaysian Maybank card won't work in Cambodian Maybank ATMs. Why not? "Oh, it doesn't work!" the clerk told me. Yes, I got that.
So while the Acleda staff were bustling about with my reams of paperwork, I had a good long time to contemplate the bank's logo. I assume this bird, whatever it is, has some honoured role in Cambodian mythology.
To me, it looks like a roadrunner, native to the southwestern US.
Which of course brings to mind the Roadrunner, eternal nemesis of Wile E. Coyote. I hope the Acleda roadrunner can keep my money safe from any and all avaricious coyotes.
When I got home, I found an email from Channy, the lady at Mekong Designs telling me that my bamboo city bike will be here in about a month. Yay! I'm really excited about this. The bamboo bike is more durable, shock-absorbent, and water-resistant than its metal counterparts. The NGO was started by a French-Belgian group in rural Vietnam, and in addition to the bamboo bike project, they train para-veterinarians to serve the rural areas in Indochina. They make road bikes and mountain bikes, too, but mine will be the city bike with the double tube frame (l) and the rear rack (r).
Although alcohol is absurdly inexpensive here, especially compared to Malaysia with its sky-high sin taxes, I really haven't felt like drinking any of it. I think there are a few reasons. First, the heat. The heat in Malaysia never really bothered me much, but I'm suffering here now. This is the hot/dry season in Cambodia, but KL is also a furnace at times. Go figure. Alcohol, though, just adds to the heat and dehydration problems.
When buying wine in KL, I half-seriously referred to myself as a "connoisseur of the barely drinkable". Well, for heaven's sake, when a bottle of rot-gut costs USD12, I felt quite smug to come home with anything even tolerable. Here in Phnom Penh I can buy a bottle of good wine for half that. I bought a litre of Bombay Sapphire gin at the Lucky Supermarket for $11. Does this make me want to drink more? No. Oddly, drinking seems less special when I haven't paid so dearly for the wine or gin.
This evening, though, when I looked back on what I accomplished during these past few days, I thought a drink on the balcony might be nice. I know I've mentioned my balcony and shamelessly shared photos of it, but I shall be obnoxious and put up yet another one.
Mark G, you were the one who told me about Pink Gin (gin and bitters). I remember picking up a small bottle of Angostura Bitters in the Village Grocers' Wine Shop in Bangsar and nearly swooning -- the price was about RM90 (USD30 or so). So I bought a large bottle today for $13, still marveling that it costs more than a litre of gin -- what on earth is in that concoction?!
Never mind. With my first ever Pink Gin, I toasted bank, bike, and all the many blessings that have come my way -- friends at the top of that list. Cheers, dear ones!
Such a lovely newsy post that I don't know where to begin. I'd love to hear you speak boondocks Khmer, I am sure it is a lot more colourful than standard city Khmer. The bird on the coat-of-arms looks like a garuda, but the garuda is the Thai national symbol and not Cambodia's, so I have no idea what this is about. I am thrilled that your bamboo bike will be arriving soon. My parents keep asking me when I am going to visit you. When I do, I will bring my skateboard with me and will hang on to the back of your bike as you pedal furiously through the streets of Phnom Penh!
ReplyDelete