Diving In -- Exploring Phnom Penh

As part of a deal with myself to not work on anything this weekend, I decided to explore Phnom Penh and, to the best of my ability, to do it on foot.   I spent hours upon hours walking and exploring the nooks and crannies of various markets and districts of Cambodia's capital city.  It was a chance for the nerdy ethnographer in me to come out and take some field-notes. 

Its refreshing to see that this part of world has been far less influenced by the rip-tide of western and international media and--apart from the odd prevalence of Angry Birds paraphernalia--the culture is  distinctive and brilliantly Southeast Asian.


I have genuinely loved walking past the grand and ornate Buddhist temples, seeing groups of monks pass at the market and to have the spicy fragrance of burning incense ever-present on the streets.  There is something that I love about Buddhist art and tradition.  It possesses this particular sense of ornate transcendence that is rich with philosophical meaning, and I absolutely love it.  Now, don't get me wrong--I'm not a Buddhist.  But, I see something beautiful in what sincere Buddhism tries to attain and how it harnesses this sense of unity, balance, and harmony that so epitomizes (in a very broad sense) Asian values and ideals.   

Yesterday, I was walking along the Mekong riverfront near the Royal Palace.   I sat for a while just behind a large shine and watched people, young and old, come and gather their incense, light it, and proceed into this small ornate structure to offer prayers and offerings to the spirits of their ancestors.  This particular ritual is something beautiful to watch.  It is done with such care an delicacy and seems to involve both parents, children, and even young couples equally.    Outside of the shrine were vendors carrying cages filled with small birds.  A number of people, upon leaving the shrine, would pay a small amount for a couple of birds.  Then, walking away from the shrine, they would release the birds into the air and watch them fly out over the river.  I'm not entirely sure if this is directly connected to what was happening inside of the shrine, but the process was nevertheless beautiful.  

Something else that I have greatly enjoyed is the thriving nightlife here in Phnom Penh.  Saturday evening, during one of my treks, I stumbled upon a night market, near the Royal Palace.   It was a great opportunity to grab some Southeast Asian "soul food"--if that's what you can call it.  At the center of the market were a number of woven mats ("banig", if you are filipino) laid end-to-end in a matrix of what seemed to be a two-dimensional restaurant of sorts.  Each mat had condiments, salt, chili pepper, and a variety of spicy, sweet, and sour pastes to choose from.  

"Pho Bo" - the Vietnamese version

For me, this was my opportunity to grab a bowl of something that I had been craving for quite some time--a Vietnamese soup called, "Pho Bo" (this was the Cambodian version, of course, but good enough for me).   I have developed somewhat of an addiction to this particular soup over the past couple years, and I was excited to discover that it is quite common in Cambodian cuisine.   The dish is essentially made up of rice noodles, bean sprouts, beef, basil, and a deliciously-rich beef broth topped with shameless amounts of cilantro (my favorite herb).


Something else that should be mentioned about evenings in Phnom Penh is how animated the riverbank and its nearby parks become as the sun starts to set.   Last night was particularly lively, as it was the night before the birthday of the Queen Mother of Cambodia (a large picture of her can be seen in the first image of this post, hanging on the front of the Royal Palace).    Standing near the Liberation Monument, I was surrounded by literally 360º of some sort of local game involving a small, hollow, woven ball that is kicked around in what seems to be a cross between soccer and hackie-sack.  Beyond that were groups of local Khmer men and women dancing--some to traditional music and others to hiphop.  In all honesty, I wanted to join--but let's face it--I had no idea of what was going on.  As I walked through the animated scene, I came across a hilarious lip-synced dancing-drama which involved what appeared to be a man declaring his un-dying love for a what seemed to be a woman(?) wearing a mustache (played by a man in drag).  


Words really don't do it justice--so I video'ed it: 

Exhausted, I started the long hour-and-a-half walk back to the Russian Market district where I am staying (I grabbed another bowl of Pho Bo on the way). 


Walking through Phnom Penh is surprisingly easy.  Compared to Manila, I would say that Phnom Penh is rather calm--and for those here in Cambodia who haven't lived in Manila, they are usually shocked to hear me use the word "calm" to describe the bustling chaos of Cambodia's capital city.   Although the traffic here is wild and usually unpredictable, transportation is simple, easily available, and usually involves hopping on the back of a public-use motorcycle or climbing in a tuk-tuk, which is a kind of motorcycle-driven pedicab that is common in this part of Southeast Asia.   For the Filipinos reading this post, I am sad to report that there are no jeepneys in Cambodia, no screaming or cackling horns and no barkers calling out for passengers--just group after group of hopeful pedicab drivers on every corner asking, "Tuk-tuk, sir?  Tuk-tuk?"  

And now a note about language.  Throughout this weekend's wanderings, I have been doing my best to pick up what I can of the language.   I am learning a little bit.  I can greet people, say thank you, and ask a (very) few basic questions.   Other than that, I don't understand a blessed thing--and without a keen and constant observation of non-verbals and vocal tones, I am usually completely and utterly lost.    I had somewhat hoped that Khmer (the national language) would have had some rough relation to Tagalog (the Philippine national language) so that I could at least have some kind of bridge for learning.  

No such luck. 

As it turns out, Khmer is a Sanskrit-derived language (the ancient, liturgical language of Buddhism, interestingly enough) as opposed to Tagalog, which is Malay-derived.  There is NO connection that I can see between the two languages, except for the fact that they both use sounds to make words which carry meaning.  --Blah.

Looking past my language issues, and the fact that VERY, VERY few people actually speak English (or Tagalog) here, I feel that my adjustments to Cambodia have been fairly effortless.  Looking back on my years in the Philippines, and the time that it took me to adjust there, its comforting to know that culture-shock is no longer a big challenge for me.   I remember that my initial culture-shock upon first moving to Southeast Asia five years ago took a number of months to work through.  And as it turned out, culture-shock was much less of a "shock" as it was a slow, creeping anxiety--like a kind of subconscious stress and frustration that I couldn't really put my finger on, but nevertheless was very real and, at times, very debilitating.   Those days are over, it seems, which puts me at ease and allows me to focus more readily on the tasks at hand.   

And with those thoughts, I think I'll save the rest for another post.  Tomorrow will be a big day.  In the morning, we leave for our first few days of fieldwork in Siem Reap.  Today has been a productive time of literature review and a very useful discussion with a long-time researcher and social worker here in Phnom Penh.  I'm looking forward to jumping in.  

More on this to come.