Motorbike Sir?

A massive earthquake off the coast of Sumatra sent biblical tsunamis across the Indian Ocean the day after Christmas. As of now, the death toll stands at 57,000, though this number should rise considerably over the next few weeks. Thailand was not the worst hit, but what is really disturbing to me is the pictures and video footage taken from Koh Phi Phi. I was there exactly two months ago enjoying the sun and beach, basking in the islands natural beauty. When I compared the news footage to my memory, a chill ran up my spine. I remember clearly stepping off the boat and seeing the “Welcome to Phi Phi Island” sign proudly displayed. It is now buried under the building which held it. Beaches that I had swum at are now covered in debris and boats. The longtail boat captain that I went Tuna fishing with had his boat parked right near the main dock. I can only hope for the best. I remember how close to the beach many of the businesses and bungalows were – I stayed for a few nights in a bamboo hut only a few meters above sea level.

There are also stories of people out in boats at the time of the wave. Many tourists who survived were forced to spend the night on one of the many outlying islands, sharing whatever food and water they had and tending to their injuries the best they could. As almost all of the boats were destroyed, those most injured had to be treated by local medical staff (which most certainly was not large enough to deal with the scores of injured) until helicopters and boats could reach the place. Most of the inhabited part of the island is no more than a few meters above sea level. I can only imagine the damage to be extreme to both persons and property. I know only the first names of many of the people I met while I was there. I hope they are alright, but based on what I know about the tragedy, I have to assume that many of them are injured or even dead.

Koh Phi Phi was a complete fantasy island. While I was there, it was hard to believe that such a place actually existed. It will take a while for the island to rebuild and recover.

I know a few people on Phuket, I am waiting to hear word that they are ok. I also have a friend who I met while traveling in Vietnam. He was on his way to Sri Lanka to work in a zoo for a few months. I have not heard back from him yet, though communication lines there are probably heavily damaged. I hope his is alright.

On a lighter note, Christmas celebrations in Phnom Penh were relaxed. For dinner, about 20 of us gathered at my friend’s restaurant, the Lazy Gecko, where we had a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. The meal was decent, though nothing can compare to Christmas dinner at home. There weren’t even any pies! It was a fun evening though, everyone was in a festive mood.

My English teaching job at the moment takes me out of town every week. From Monday until Thursday, I head up to Kampon Chnang, about 1 ½ hours north of here. There I teach at CMAC, the Cambodian Mine Action Center. CMAC is a large organization funded by foreign governments that goes about clearing landmines and unexploded ordinance. I teach two managers at the training center English. Most of the employees are former soldiers. When I have gone out to dinner with them, all they do is sit around and tell dirty jokes. My students also always make fun of each other in regards to their mistresses.

This week, CMAC had an end of the year party. Five kegs of the Anchor Smooth were on tap; a whole pig with some side dishes was the food. It was clear from the outset that the party was not over until the beer was finished. The senior managers were all very drunk within an hour and kept demanding the waitresses to keep filling up people’s cups. I was the only foreigner present, so I attracted anyone who wanted to practice their English skills. After everyone was sufficiently sauced, we piled in the CMAC trucks and headed off to the Karaoke bars. I have been to a few here in Asia, but this was a little more our of control. Imagine 35 – 55 year old men, completely wasted, trying to sing awful Khmer music while the others attempted to dance with the Karaoke bar girls. They managed to find a CD with some English songs on it, but it had some really bad love songs from Hong Kong that I had never heard of. Nevertheless, I gave it my best. I now know that I have no vocal talent whatsoever. Everyone was impressed (or at least acted it, or were to drunk to notice) at my skills. The next morning, my two students cancelled class because they were too hungover. I still get paid, so I don’t mind.

New years is on Friday and I have some solid plans. There is an annual party in the abandoned French casino on the top of Bokor mountain on the coast (see my entry “Sleeping with the Monks). A bunch of us are heading down on dirtbikes for the party, then I am heading over to Sihanoukville for a day on the beach. It should be a fun time.

Happy New Year.

Neil

Hello again. I thought it might be a good idea to redefine my plans and status in the far east. I am living in Phnom Penh, Cambodia teaching English. I came over to Southeast Asia on July 1, 2004 with the intention of finding a city to settle down in for a while and teach English. I thought I might travel for two or three months before starting work with my original destination as Hanoi, Vietnam (hence the former title of this blog, Good Morning Vietnam). When I arrived in Hanoi after a month and a half of travel, I did not feel quite ready stop moving, plus I still had considerable funds left in my bank account. So I decided to travel down Vietnam and through Cambodia. After spending a month in both Vietnam and Cambodia, I decided that Phnom Penh was the place for me. After I made this decision, I spent another month in Thailand for a final dose of fun in the sun. I am now in Phnom Penh with a job at Regent School of Business.

I have decided to change the title of my blog from “Good Morning Vietnam” (for obvious reasons) and rename it “Motorbike Sir?”. Those of you who have been fortunate enough to have travelled in this part of the world should be familiar with this phrase. The mere sight of a Barang (foriegner) to a local entreprenur causes dollar signs to flash inside of their head. Moto drivers are some of the most aggressive locals in pursuing foriengers. Walking no more than a block in the city, one can expect to hear the question “motorbike sir?” at least once. Though this constant barrage can get tiring (I have almost lost it a few times), I still respect their pursuit of work.

When I was in school and summer rolled around, my dad would immediatly be urging me to get out and find a job. “Hustle” was the word he used. Moto Dops are hustlers. They can provide just about any service, from selling drugs to locating appartments.

In a rapidly changing country like Cambodia, when laws are ignored, corruption is rampant, and the divide between rich and poor, powerful and weak grows ever larger, people have to hustle to make a living. Though some moto dops can be dishonest, tourist-swindling jaba addicts, most are pretty decent guys. And I respect their drive and hustle in this place of unbridled capatalism.

So my plan for now is to teach and live in the city. I don’t know how long I will stay, but I think I will eventually get back on the road. There are many places to see (my next destinations will be Burma and Indonesia) and I have never stayed in one place for very long. Going travelling again requires saving money – something I have never been good at. We’ll see.

In the meantime, if you stop by Phnom Penh give me a shout. I welcome visitors to this fair city.

Cheers,
Neil