This week is our last in Cambodia. It feels a little weird. Although we’ve only been here 71 days, those days feel like years. The last few weeks, ever since Siem Reap, we’ve just been humming along in Phnom Penh. We’ve acquired a sort of routine.
Work. Dinner. Maybe see some friends. Wake up, work. Lemon teas for lunch. Work. Dinner. Work. Dinner. Meeting with the staff. Work. Skip dinner, and watch a movie. Work. Church. Karaoke. Wake up, work.
I think some people might say “that’s not traveling” or would prefer to day trip every single weekend. But as the months have passed, every time we come home from the ruins of Siem Reap or the splendor of Singapore, we open our little room and sigh a breath of relief.
Our wooden slat beds, the school tables used as a vanity, the clips and strings holding up plastic hand mirrors and maps, and the luxury of furniture: the bamboo shelves that contain the sum of our lives.
It’s important to have a home. We are like birds that way, nesting and collecting as we try and find comfort in the branches of a tree. We need a place of refuge. A place of comfort. And it’s fascinating how little it requires. I never thought I could be content to leave a hotel of modernity to come home to our little hutch with no running water or air conditioning. But somehow, it’s our home, our nest. And it doesn’t matter if it’s 95 degrees, it still trumps a hostel.
Our days in Phnom Penh our in the single digits.
Weird.
I won’t lie and say I’m not a little anxious to change the scenes. We’ve had some great learning experiences and made some wonderful connections here in the Pearl of Asia. Here are a few of them.
religious diversity
Working with a crowd of diverse people has been one of my favorite parts of Phnom Penh. Diverse in age, ethnicity, religion, and personality. I cannot express how refreshing it is to work with a myriad of cultures and belief systems.
On some level, I’ve always known that this is important to me, but experiencing it on my own and in a real-life setting again, I’ve discovered it is essential. For me, diversity of thought is enlightening, and invigorating, and only strengthens my personal faith in my own religious beliefs. Learning about Buddhism, Hinduism, and Confucianism firsthand has been one of the highlights of this travel experience. There is holiness as you walk through the streets in the early morning, monks in vibrant orange bless the storefronts while grateful grandmothers and children alike make their offerings in the form of a prayer. Indians in bangles and bindis honor their own heritage proudly as they present their loud textiles amid the understated tones of East Asia. Confucius influences are felt in every interaction here; respect for teachers and education grants me a bow from each and every one of my students as they enter the school.
There is an unspoken respect for the past. For elders. For ancestors. For traditions.
There can be balance between the way things have always been and the way things might be.
It feels… like a sigh of relief. Like every interaction that ridicules former events and ways of life has grated on me and now it just makes sense.
Those that come before us are not inherently less developed, less progressive, or less educated.
They are not less of anything.
I feel so validated here as a religious individual compared to the United States where religion is typically seen as first and foremost: ignorance. My practices are respected by all I meet, and some aspects (such as modesty) are just the normal way of life here in Cambodia. At the end of the day, there are a lot of people trying to worship God. We call Him a lot of different names, but sometimes that’s just about the only difference. We are not so different than we think. Finding the common thread of humanity behind the intimidation of the “strange” is what moves us and changes us.
local connection
Trying all the new foods is another obvious perk, including the best part: making friends with our favorite restaurants and their staff. It’s surprising how little formal communication is needed to host feelings of welcome. With a smile and a humble question in broken Khmer, most anyone is obliging. Barred by language and culture we can still see some of ourselves in the other and greet it with a grin. Babies are the classic gateway for this. Somehow a baby is the perfect common ground. Yet another party that is inadequate in the language department, but honestly, they fit right in. Some of our favorite people:
– The tea shop barista. This guy doesn’t speak a lick of English and considering that no one can salvage anything out of our Khmer, we don’t make much conventional progress. But body language is key! We were friends, I just knew it. His head tilts when I give him the wrong money says it all. His stand is right around the corner, just close enough to steal away in between classes, pick up a regular, and dash back inside before the heat wilts our spirit. We tried to say goodbye on the last day (I’m writing this half after we’ve left now) but I don’t think he understood us :’( I wonder if he’s confused about where his little weekly Westerner customers are. Maybe.
– The Indian staff at Curry Pot. Let me tell you, these people definitely got to know us. Aidan’s curry cravings are insatiable. She could eat Indian food every night, no problem. And considering that it’s some of the best we’ve ever had… we have to take advantage right? Anyways, these people are so kind and always smile and laugh at us when we’re coming in for the third time that week. Some of our best nights have been sitting outside with our naan, (well me with my papadum) chatting and enjoying the free, constantly refilled water. Something of a luxury here.
– Circle K! I almost forgot about this one. And yet, how could it have slipped my mind? We literally buy here every day. It’s a little mini-mart around the corner from us and they have everything from fish balls to ramen. So not a lot going on here. But they do have cold water and tampons, which are extremely difficult to find in Asia (at least where we’ve been, including Singapore). The staff here are people our age, and it’s hilarious how often we come in. Circle K is like our little refuge during a storm. If we haven’t found any food then we come in and get snacks. If we just want a break from the heat. If we need a drink in between classes. Pretty much everything has happened here. Addy threw up once in their bathroom and then all over the floor (oops). Two Liberian guys practically harassed us for 20 minutes and one tried to pay for my drink. It was like 60 c soo nice try buddy. Somehow bedhead and a shirt I haven’t washed for two weeks say “hey please ask for my number seven times.”
Circle K really has seen the best and the worst of us.
– The coconut guys! There is a coconut “station” shall we call it? Basically, it’s a heap of green coconuts next to a table and people stop all day and order the one-size-fits-all item and then one of the guys who works the shop hacks it up until you can poke a straw through the top. It’s a family ordeal, so the three sons are constantly there either lounging around or busy hacking. Since it is on our block we literally pass them three times a day at least. We never have gotten coconuts, neither of us like it, but I almost want to just talk to these young men we see EVERY DAY. Seriously it kind of feels like we’re friends even though all we do is smile. They’re pretty cute. Especially when they’re wearing the traditional cambodian skirt and nothing else hehehe. To be fair, it’s not uncommon to see men walking around shirtless all the time (free air conditioning), and less uncommon to see men lift their shirt up and tuck it under, exposing their bellies to the world.
A mung bean ball guy. Notice how I don’t know any of their names? Haha, it is quite difficult to ask people’s names because I don’t want to be rude, or too touristy. It is very western to wear your name on your tag or something. Here it is considered inappropriate to ask the name of a person older than you unless you are asked first. So this guy knows me well because I come to his little street station at least three times a week to pick up rice flour bean balls. They are my new favorite thing. They get me through life here. Don’t know how I’d survive without them.
Food
Although food has been difficult (we knew that coming in) there have definitely been some favorites!
In general, it’s just nice to be in a place with better eating habits. People rarely eat processed food here, and even if it’s fried or stir-fried, it’s full of fresh ingredients. The streets are full of motos heavily laden with baskets full of greens or fresh fruit.
Fruit is actually quite expensive here, which surprised me. An apple runs about 1.10 a pop, and strawberries, kiwi, grapes, melon, pears, and tomatoes are all very pricey. Bananas are relatively cheap. So are sour mangoes, the season fruit of the winter.
Sour mango
We didn’t actually know what this fruit was for the longest time. They cut it up like you would a potato for fries. I was so confused.. what is this potato-shaped pear-colored fruit cut into little strips? I finally figured out that it’s sour mango. During the winter, because they don’t import from India, the climate doesn’t allow for the mango to fully ripen. This results in a mango that is smaller than what you’d typically see in the States. It is hard and sharp tasting, like a green apple. They eat it with a mix of sugar and chili powder flakes, a sweet and spicy paste. I don’t like the spicy, but I love the mango! You can find women selling and cutting fruit everywhere, and it is the cheapest way to eat something fresh.
They sell jujube, longan, pineapple, and other little things that I’ve tried that I don’t know the names of. I did my best to figure out what everything is called. I even went to the mall supermarket where things are translated into English and bought a ton of different weird fruits and tried them all. Fruit mukbang!
Amok
Amok is a traditional Cambodian curry made with fish paste and coconut in a banana leaf. It definitely has a strong and particular flavor, but when made right it is really good. The curry situation is really hit or miss. I love coconut-based curry, but Cambodians traditionally don’t do that kind. A coconut-based actually comes from Thailand. Theirs is an oil-based one that typically is boiled with chicken feet and is actually the nastiest thing I’ve ever tasted. Seriously. I am not considered faint of heart when it comes to food, but this was next level. The smell was awful, and I only realized that it is a chicken feet smell until we kept passing chicken feet carts and the smell was the same. It comes with sweet potato in the soup, as well as some other vegetables. The thing is, with translation issues and the picture on the menu from google, I never know what kind of curry it is and usually end up taking the risk because it’s the only gluten-free option. It’s kind of turned into a running joke because the minute it comes out, you know. You can smell it from a mile away and then you know you lost the guessing game. The servers are probably really confused when we start laughing before we’ve even seen our food.
one of the lucky curries (no chicken feet)
Mung bean paste
This is one of my favorite new things! Addy will tell you, I am obsessed. I have always loved bean desserts, ever since discovering them in Chinatown, San Francisco. I got hooked on Chinese moon cakes and the obsession followed me to college where I’d splurge on red bean mochi at the Asian grocery store in town. There’s something so satisfying about the density and mild sweetness of a bean-based dessert. My favorite local discovery is specifically the mung bean balls. At least that’s what I call them! I really have no idea what they’re called in Khmer.
It starts with the mung bean, which looks like a green lentil, only slightly bigger. They soak and cook them and then pound them into a yellowish paste. It’s mixed with some sugar I think? Not exactly sure. But then they have the paste in one big wok and a heaping pile of rice flour in the other and they “bread” the paste until it forms the shape of a ball and then they fry it and top it with sesame seeds. SO good. And it’s gluten-free! I’m in rice flour paradise right now. Almost all the desserts are made with coconut milk and rice flour in some way. Basically, my two dietary restrictions are already off the table, naturally! Love it.
Bai sak chowk
For the last month or so I haven’t eaten any meat (I’ll write about my journey to veganism at some point) BUT before this transition, I had no problem with pork. Ironically, right at this moment, I’m literally petting a piglet in a homestay in Sa Pa, Vietnam. Please allow me to fetch the tissues.
Cambodia in the morning is my favorite Cambodia. There is a hustle and bustle unlike anything else. Everyone is getting a quick breakfast on the street before hopping on their scooter and dashing away in their school uniform. There’s just a good energy. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been a morning person that I like it so much. I get extra stares during this time of day, probably because 5-day tourists don’t really come to my part of town, and they’re also not going about a breakfast routine with a teacher’s uniform on.
The national breakfast dish here is called Bai Sak Chouk. Or, pork and rice. This sounds simple, but believe me it is a very specific process.
Cambodians, as well as other Southeast Asian populations, eat a specific broken rice that they believe is better for digestion and tastes better as well. This is scooped out of a giant pot (the size of a garbage can) and a substantial portion is plopped onto a plate or a to-go container. The pork is not the cut of bacon, so it doesn’t have the same fatty texture. Rather, I would compare it to chicken fried steak or something. It is grilled over a small BBQ all morning. These grills are literally on every corner in the morning, and the smell of breakfast is definitely the smell of BBQ pork for Cambodians. Once the pork is deemed perfect, (usually the grandmother of the establishment is manning the BBQ) it is put aside onto a plate in the street cart. When you order bai sak chouk, a piece is chosen and chopped up on a round wooden block with a huge machete and then placed over top of your heaping rice. If it is dried out sometimes they “rehydrate” it with some grease from the BBQ. The dish comes with pickled vegetables, chili sauce, and a brothy soup. And don’t worry if you’re getting it to go on your moto, you’ll get all three painstakingly wrapped in plastic bundles.
Corn
lusting after the corn
This is pretty simple, but considering my dietary restrictions, it is a treasure when I find it. Cambodian corn is cooked in two ways. Either on the small bbq, and then sprinkled with chili, or the kernels are shaved off and sauteed with spices. The latter is harder to find and of course my favorite. They usually do it in a huge wok and the corn caramelizes with the spices and brings out such a good flavor! Yummy.
Coconut Pandan Jelly
This one is also quite good. I mean, to me. Just FYI Addy doesn’t think any of these foods are good, and most of my foreign colleagues don’t either. Maybe I am just easy to please. Or maybe it’s because I’m in heaven with all these foods that are naturally gluten and dairy-free.
Cambodians don’t have a lot of desserts, but one of the best has to be this rice-flour-coconut-milk deliciousness. Jelly, if you’ve never been to Asia, is basically the cake of the Orient. Everything is based on some sort of jelly. In the West, we have most desserts based off of pastry or cake, with some embellishments along the way. In Asia, pretty much everything starts with jelly or rice. These are my favorite because they’re not as slimy as other ones, and they don’t drench it in a weird syrup and top with crystallized egg yolks. This “cake,” as they call it, is layered and when it’s finished it has really fine green and white stripes. The green is flavored with pandan, a common flavor over here. It’s a pretty normal-looking house plant, but when the leaves are ground up it produces a flavor that is dubbed the “vanilla of the Orient.” The other layer is coconut. Yummy combination! It doesn’t really taste or have the texture of anything like American Jell-O, and that’s probably because there’s no gelatin in it (which also makes it vegan!). It is thick, and you can hold it and bite into it, like a jelly brownie. I am totally going to try and replicate these at home.
Through the thick and thin we’ve grown so much here in Phnom Penh, met some amazing people, and now we’re ready for the next thing!
Here we come Vietnam!