Every morning we eat breakfast as a team. Usually we get breakfast from the local market because it’s much cheaper than the grocery store. However, the market is really crowded, really smelly and has random dead chickens, fish and pig heads hanging out everywhere. One night this week, I remembered right before I went to bed that it was my turn to get breakfast in the morning. I usually try to get it the day before to avoid the early morning rush (and to avoid having to get up early) but I forgot to go. I decided to go by myself because I didn’t make a plan with Mike and I didn’t want to wake him up. Here’s how my morning went:
I head out to the shed to grab a bicycle. I grab one and start to wheel it to the street only to realize the tire is flat. I take it back and get the other bike and its tire is flat as well. I’m already a little grumpy at the prospect of facing the market madness and the flat tires just make it a little bit worse. Grumpily, I start walking toward the market, dreading the boring walk and the heat. However, five minutes into my walk I meet Amy on her way back from her morning exercise and she has my Ipod. The walk suddenly becomes much more enjoyable as I blast some Snow Patrol and make my way to the market.
I get to the market and it is even more jam-packed than usual. I try to make a game plan in order to get out there as fast as possible. I head to the bakery first to grab bread. The one-year-old twins of the owner are there and I immediately get handed a baby to cuddle. The day is looking even better. I buy my bread (which turns out to be moldy when I get home…oops) and say good-bye to the babies.
I head back to the center of the market to get eggs but I take a long detour through the tourist-y section in order to avoid the “dead animal” part of the food market. I find myself judging all of the tourists who are walking around wide-eyed and snapping photos. And then I remember that I don’t actually live in Siem Reap and am therefore also a tourist. I finally make my way to the eggs, leaving the tubs of live, flapping fish a wide berth and buy my eggs. For a minute I am outraged at being charged the “white person price”. That is, until I realize I am white. I begin to realize how much Siem Reap has become “home” to me in the last two months.
As I mentioned earlier the market is absolutely packed this morning. As usual, the old ladies simply shove me out of the way when they need to get by. I’m more or less used to this by now and figure when I’m old I’ll just come back to the market and shove their grand-kids out of the way to make up for it…or something. I’m waiting in a particularly bad traffic jam when the old lady behind me starts jabbing me in the back to move. I’m literally nose-to-nose with the person in front of me, and so I obviously can’t go anywhere. When the back jabbing doesn’t work, she literally grabs my butt with both of her hands and tries to maneuver me out of her way. Using my bum as the steering wheel. I feel that this is a new low, even for the market.
I stand there feeling incredibly awkward until the traffic jam resolves itself and the old lady is able to successfully shove me out of the way. I then continue on my merry way to the fruit stand. However, half way between the eggs and the fruit I hear a shout so I look around to see what’s happening. And as I look up, one of the vegetable ladies jumps off of her vegetable table (they sit on the table with the vegetables) and starts brawling with another vegetable lady. Seriously. Brawling. Vegetables are flying everywhere. The entire (extremely large) crowd makes a beeline to watch the fight. Eventually, market security separates them (I didn’t even know they existed, they have walkie talkies and everything, which is rather impressive for Cambodia).
After the women are separated, everyone is still crowding around. You really don’t see open fighting in Cambodia, especially between women. I think it’s a novelty to everyone and I know it will be awhile before I can move. I’m standing next to one of the random “restaurants” in the market and I see people drinking what looks like iced-coffee so I use my best hand motions to order one, just to kill time while I wait and because I’m slightly curious if it’s any good. It eventually comes (in a plastic bag of course) and I take a sip. And on my very last day in Siem Reap, after two months, I discover that the food market has the exact same ice coffee that I was addicted to in Thailand. For fifty cents. And I feel a little sad. But then I remember how much condensed milk it has and I think it might be good for my health that I didn’t know any sooner.
I buy my fruit and then hurry home to lovingly cook breakfast for my team. On the way home, I follow two precious old ladies carrying their baskets from the market and hope I’ll have a best friend to go market shopping with when I’m old.
