… never a dull moment!
It’s raining, and hard at that!
My translator assured me that it is
indeed the dry season. With a nod and a grin he repeatedly says. ‘No rain for a long time’… It is likely that we’re still in a
transitional stage with either warm sunny days, cold blustery days or rainy
days. Kevin is in denial of the cold wet
weather. He still wears a short sleeve
shirt while I on the other hand have a sweater on.
It’s Sunday. On
weekends we traditionally walk up the hill (working an appetite) for a
delicious breakfast at the market. Our
usual order is cordial soup with pork and for yours truly, smoked pork on a bed
of rice with ice tea. The market is the perfect place to watch the goings on –
the to and fro, the vendors selling their produce, to listen to a word or two
in Khmer and, to listen to this jovial individual (with his big horn) trying to
sell bus tickets to anyone on a motorbike or passers-by. Our jovial friend always acknowledges us when
he sees us enter our favourite local restaurant, and, without fail he wants to
know if we plan to take a local bus somewhere …
As we’re having breakfast we’re further entertained with buses being
loaded with motorbikes, chickens, heavy bags of rice and other produce,
including numerous passengers packed like sardines before departing to their
various locations. Bursting at it seams, the seemingly lopsided bus
drives around the town at least twice –if not three times to pick up more
passengers … before its final parting
to its destination ... while all the while we marvel as to ‘how is it possible for the driver to fit more people in and on top of
his bus?’ We’ve now been going to
the same local place for the same breakfast for a year to enjoy the delicious
food, to pick up a Khmer word or two from the charming people around us, to
watch the market turn into a ‘theatre of humanity’.
On our return from the market we find the landlord in
our kitchen attempting to fix our water tap in his underwear! While Savy,
(our landlady) grabs me by the arm escorting me to her petite clinic to
introduce me to her new electronic massage beds and insists that I have a
try. She lies down on the massage bed
beside mine and convinces me that I should like it.
Further, an ‘after thought’ has risen for their petite
clinic. The landlord/landlady have just
added a side verandah that looks right into our
verandah and, into our bedroom. Now they
are in the midst of building a short wall and a driveway. After my massage, in her complete splendour, Savy
orchestrates the workers to do what she wants.
In the rain, under a ragged canopy; two women attempt to manually sift
sand in unison while two wide eyed children gaze with wonder; a young boy is
lifting pales of heavy concrete for the other two men to catch ready to level
off the drive way; with out a doubt, the supervisor in his perfect element, (though
in charge of the workers and oblivious to his surroundings), attempt to polish
his car in the rain. Despite the rain
and the orchestrated sound fading away in the background, the workers break
into a song. By 11 o’clock everyone’s
stops for lunch and Savy and Sukhon happily joins them.
Voilà! This is just a brief account of a typical
morning at the Sen Monorom VSO Boulevard district. There’s never a dull
moment …
More later ...
