A theatre of humanity

… 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 ...