moderatelyExcessive

I realize this is an accumulation of posts, rather than a single one. It is with both pride and shame that I confess I have used the internet for exactly three minutes in the past month.

Life is back to normal, if that’s what you’d call this. Where I live is not far off the beaten path here, but far enough so that I’m a curiousity to my neighbors, as they are to me. I have a very pleasant apartment with a small patio, if that’s what you’d call this concrete slab, and very kind and pleasant neighbors. It’s far from luxurious, but one person taking up this much space to the Khmer seems extravagant. It’s just two large rooms and a bathroom, really. It was a bit disconcerting the first day I moved in — about ten people followed me through my front door and collected in my front room before I had even put my bags down.
They all removed their shoes before entering, so I also knew they were entering with respect – but awkward? A touch. I spoke with a few of them, but I’m still only able to understand only 25% of what I hear (unless people speak to me like a child). My vocabulary hasn’t been expanding as rapidly since I’ve started to practice reading and writing.

 

 

Every night, the neighbors gather in one neighbor’s backyard/volleyball court/restaurant for a few hours of karaoke and beer. I was invited to join them tonight, but I’m waiting patiently for when I can do it the right way.

 

 

I now have all but one of my classes running smoothly. I say this tentatively, because you all probably know how delicate the balance is.

 

I wasn’t sure what to expect of my private university students – if they had a collective work ethic anything like my private grammar school students, it could have spelled disaster. Given only a course title, “Communication Studies” and a Cambridge Book on cultural studies to teach from that’s essentially People Magazine with a glossary, my professorial career was launched.

 

Come to think of it, it’s more like if People Magazine were an audiobook with an accompanying photo pullout.

 

And you only had the pullout.

 

The university I work for doesn’t have the audiotape/cd required for any of the student exercises in the photobook. But there’s the glossary, and counts for something.

 

So for my two classes, I prepared a survey on “communications” and had my students answer with a show of hands.

 

The results:

Have you ever….?

Mailed a personal letter? (1 of 35 students)

Mailed a postcard (0/35)

Sent a business letter (0/35)

Written a resume/CV (4/35)

Filled out a job application (4/35)

Sent a letter of inquiry to a company or organization (0/35)

Applied to a selective school (1/35)

Applied for a scholarship (1/35)

Written a letter of complaint (0/35)

Sent a fax (0/35)

Sent an email (20/35)

Called a family member in another country (12/35)

Called someone other than a family member in another country (1/35)

Chatted online with friends (6/35)

Chatted online with a friend in another country (3/35)

Chatted online with a stranger (6/35)

Used a webcam (4/35)

Built a website (1/35)

Read a blog (0/35)

Blogged (0/35)

Played an online game against other players (1/35)

Traveled outside of Cambodia (0/35)

 

Do you….?

Have a website/blog? A page on facebook/myspace/hi5/other social networking websites?(2/35)

Speak any languages other than English or Khmer (4/35 (all French)) Fluent? (0/35)

Can you write in any other languages other than English or Khmer? (0/35)

Have a personal computer in your household? (1/35)

Have an internet connection (0/35)

Know how to use a personal computer? (35/35 – the University requires all first year students to take a computer competency class)

The results were so poor in some areas that I dropped questions.

So, instead of People Weekly, I’ll be giving my students projects throughout the semester, based largely on the list above. All my students are extremely bright, and pay very good money to attend school, so it’s disconcerting to see what administrators are willing to pass off as a university education.

 

This may be random, but have I mentioned the Coca-Cola? Any soda for that matter, but Coke particularly.They don’t use corn syrup in the Coke here, just palm sugar. It’s not nearly as heavy as the Coke in the States has become. I’d kill for a decent slice of pizza to go with it.

 

I’ve been renting a canoe/kayak about every three days from another tremendous Khmer family. Aside from the pleasure of going out to the islands and snorkeling around the coral reef, it’s been paying for itself – all it takes to catch fish here is a line and a lure dangled off the back of the kayak. And any Khmer family living/working along the shore will cook up what you catch with rice and veggies if you’re willing to share.

 

I was warned to steer clear of the nearest island, as it’s the private island of Sihanoukville’s governor. Stories were told of the Governor’s goons scaring foreigners away with vague threats. As fate would have it, I had to take refuge there on one of my first kayak trips as a storm formed inland, stirring up the Gulf, and threatened to head my way. When I landed on the small beach there, a well-built man sitting in a lawn chair was having his hair preened with chopsticks by two comely women, while two buddies and two security guards (one in a boat just offshore) looked on. As soon as I landed, the man in the chair said something to one of the women, who then ran off to the shack that would presumably be the Governor’s residence and returned with a bottle of water. I explained why I had landed there, pointing to the storm a few miles away and thanked everyone for the water and the hospitality. Despite the cool winds of the storm, Cambodia’s heat makes a 3/4 mile canoe trip pretty exhausting, so I sat down at the water’s edge to catch a breath. Not more than two minutes or so had passed before the man in the lawn chair came and offered me a cold beer and sat down. I told him where I was from, and he asked me many questions but my ability to speak Khmer only goes so far. He told me the best areas of coral reef to snorkel, and then he was back in his chair, having his hair preened again.

His two buddies and one of the guards then set up a fishing net offshore and beat the water around it with branches to scare fish towards the net. The catch was clearly abundant from the moment they started to gather the nets. Five of us were necessary to eventually haul it in. I was invited to stay for dinner, and did what I could to repay the favors by digging up a pound or two of clams for them to throw on the fire.

I never asked the man if he was the Governor. I didn’t want to let on that I knew anything about the island before getting there…

 

 

Many days are like this… heading out solo or with a friend or two and ending up in a much larger group in some entirely unexpected place. Unfortunately, most days require getting home by late afternoon to teach well into the evening.

 

 

I’m now prepared for my third New Year’s celebration this year, as the Khmer New Year approaches. It’s a week-long National Holiday punctuated by water and talcum powder fights in the streets. I have a feeling the fun of being plastered randomly will wear out quickly, so I’m planning to take refuge on one of the islands for a few days of camping and fishing.

 

Finally, a personal note:

This one goes out to Andreas.

 

Andreas is a Swedish fellow (a Swedish redneck, I really should say) who stayed for a week at the hut/restaurant on the beach where I usually launch the canoe from. As I was on the shore preparing my canoe two days ago, Andreas swiped my iPod and a few other things from my backpack just before he left for Bangkok, on his way back to Stockholm. I barely knew him, but I saw him just about every day when I’d hit the beach. Other than the fact that he chain-smoked pot every day for over a week, there isn’t much else to say about him.

Dear Andreas,

You confound me with your stupidity. You confided in me that you had amassed prescription and non-prescription drugs to smuggle back to Stockholm because you didn’t have enough money to pay your rent when you returned. You even showed me your quite sizable stash. Well, the Cambodian border guard is awaiting your arrival at Poipet and the Thailand Civil Aviation Authority is expecting you in Bangkok, so“paying the rent” should take on a whole new meaning for you soon. Good luck with that, fella.

Though I have no expectations of the subject of this note to see it anytime soon, I do hope that it’s one of those things that he somehow finds on Google a few years (of hard time, SE Asia style) from now.