I haven’t written much here in Cambodia. It is not for a lack of thoughts, but rather a lack of the ability or energy to compile them into a comprehensive thought.
The things we saw in Phnom Penh were simply unspeakable for me. I could not capture with words the things I saw and felt there. Even here, the things my mind comprehends have no words in our vocabulary to express.
I find myself being deep in thought, but without verbal expression. It is thought my heart has a language my head simply does not understand.
There is an oppression here that is also difficult to describe. I go from feeling lazy and tired to almost depressed or emotionless, sometimes even anxious or irritated. I can not connect the feelings to any event or situation, so I can only presume it is something or a demonic nature.
The other day, I rode my bike in to town to use the internet. Directionally it is a simple ride; although navigating the traffic and pot holes is a whole other issue. The road we live on runs along the East side of the river. The Old Market area is South from us on the West side of the river.
The two roads run parallel with only the river dividing them. You would think it would be rather difficult to get lost. All you have to do is follow the river and know which side you have to be on.
Even that is simple because the East side of the river is a rough partially dirt road with little shop stalls all along it. The West side of the river is mostly paved with a nice park that forms the border of the French Quarter. It is pretty easy to tell which side you are on.
While I was sitting in the Blue Pumkin reading my email, I realized that it was almost time for lunch. I was running late and had to hurry home.
I jumped on my bike, road across the river and turned left with the other traffic. I peddled and peddled as fast as I could, trying to get home quickly so they would not have to wait for me.
Soon, I realized that nothing looked familiar. I looked to my left, and the river was not beside me. “Oh crap, what did I do wrong. I turned left, how could I mess that up?” As I looked around me, it was clear that I was heading out of town. There were rice paddies on my left, and there are no rice paddies in town.
I saw a bunch of motos turning left at the next intersection, so I followed them thinking it would lead me back to the river. I road for a while, and I saw some bigger buildings up ahead so I thought I was going the right way.
I rode and rode, but my legs were turning to jelly as I pushed the peddles harder and harder. I came to a bus station, and realized that I had no idea where I was. I have never seen a bus station marked on the map of town.
There were a bunch of tuk-tuks sitting out front waiting for customers. Exhausted and lost, and late, I asked a driver if he could take me and my bike to Spean Neak. He said yes, for three dollars. It sounded like a lot, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t ride anymore and I had no idea how to get home unless I went back the way I came and then road all the way home from there. I was too tired to even think about that.
He loaded the bike in the tuk-tuk and I jumped in with it and braced it with my foot as he drove off down the road.
I got even more nervous as it seemed we were heading further and further away into nothing. I was beginning to wonder if there was another place called Spean Neak. You see in Cambodia, they do not know street names at all. The motos and tuk-tuks drive by landmarks. You have to know the closest landmark to where you are going if you a ride. Spean Neak is the name of the bridge at the end of our road.
After a few minutes, we came to a traffic circle that I had seen before, but I didn’t know where it was. We turned left and headed down another long and deserted road. A few minutes later I began to recognize some of the shops close to our house where Mallorie and I went to practice riding the bikes.
Phew! That was a relief. I was about a five minute ride home, so the three dollars were well worth it. I would have paid him five if he asked. I was so relieved to be home. The others had begun lunch without me, probably assuming I had stayed in town for lunch.
They were amused when I told them I was lost. I was not so amused at the time, but now it seems funny. I can not figure out where I was or how I got so lost in the first place. I am pretty sure it was the spirit of confusion messing with me.
I have had a lot of annoying things happen on those bikes. Just the day before, I had run out to the store before class to get us cereal for breakfast. On my way there, I quickly discovered that I had a flat tire. I had to stop at two places to find somebody to blow it up again. By that time, it was too late to go to the store, so I peddled back home just in time to grab my stuff and head off to school.
You could just say it is back luck, but I don’t believe in luck. You could just say that things just happen, and maybe so, but I wouldn’t put it past the devil to send little things my way just to wear me down.
