The weather, and other topics

The past few weeks have been full of things to write about, and yet my general sense of inertia has prevented me from sharing it here. Today I will make an effort to catch up a bit, though as one experience after another leaves an impression in my mind, I fear that the older impressions get fuzzier and fuzzier...

Despite its reputation as a meaningless topic of conversation, the weather has been pretty remarkable here lately. Though we are getting closer to the end of rainy season, it shows no sign of  letting up, and there have been tremendous floods all over, including right here in Siem Reap town.  The Siem Reap River, which normally ambles through town as a slow-moving ribbon of brown water (they try to trap all the garbage in a big net just before the river hits the touristy part of town) rose dramatically to the edge of its grassy green banks, and then quickly spilled over into the streets. Our house was not affected, for which we were very grateful, but the main streets were hip-deep in some places, and lots of people had to vacate their homes when the water came inside or the roads became impassable. Getting from one place to another became a huge wet adventure. I learned that as long as my muffler didn’t end up underwater, I could drive my motorbike through the flooded streets, but the problem was that sometimes the water was only shin-deep in one spot, and then quickly became much deeper, leaving little opportunity to turn around and go back. The roads themselves weren’t visible through the filthy water, and it became impossible to see the pot holes and broken pavement. As cars and truck ands tuktuks made the same valiant attempts to move around town, they created wakes and currents and shoulder-high splashes, which meant that going anywhere, even when it wasn’t raining, resulted in getting soaked. People were kayaking down Pub Street, the main drag of restaurants where all the tourists usually for dinner. 

Driving on dirt roads was even more of a challenge than driving on paved streets – the roads were washing away bit by bit, exposing unseen boulders, or the mud was ankle-deep slippery clay, providing a fish-tailing experience similar to driving on an icy Vermont road in January. The roads to both my office and the shelter were flooded, and the shelter itself ended up partly underwater. One day, I saw fish swimming in the driveway as the poor barefoot security guard slogged through the water to open the gate. Kids swam in the streets and jumped off the bridges into the fast-moving river. Stories abounded about crocodiles that had escaped from the crocodile farm right here in town and were swimming in the streets – making me worry a bit about those kids dog-paddling down Sivatha Boulevard!

Allegedly an escapee from the crocodile farm

The first time the river overflowed, it was pretty impressive and the whole thing was a bit of a fun adventure. When it receded after a few days, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and set about drying out their belongings and mopping up the mess. When the rains started again a few days later and the river came up faster and deeper than the first time, it wasn’t nearly as amusing. Even more Cambodian villages were flooded, a group of tourists had to be air-lifted by helicopter out of one of the temples when the water came up suddenly, and the news was filled with photos of people clinging to trees and roofs and escaping their homes by boat. Many people couldn’t get home for the big Pchum Ben holidays. The last figures I heard say that more than 150 people have died in flooding in Cambodia, with hundreds of homes, businesses, pagodas, schools, roads, and hospitals damaged or destroyed, not to mention vast areas of ruined rice crops. While we whined about the inconvenience, that’s all it was for us, but for many people here this is devastating, and of course there is no safety net.

Many events around town were cancelled, lots of expats took the opportunity to get out of town and go to Bangkok for a few days, and our shopping and eating expeditions were limited to places closer to home than usual. As of two days ago, the water has receded yet again – though just as it was starting to go down, we received emergency emails and text messages from the US Embassy warning of us of impending floods in the next few days. Either they’re a little late getting their warnings out, or there is more to come. Time will tell.

In the meantime, I sneak looks at people’s Facebook photos of Vermont foliage and feel quite homesick. I'm sure I will feel differently when I start seeing people post about freezing temperatures and snowstorms, but for now, I truly do miss the crisp fall air and the blaze of color and freshly-picked apples. I would love to be sitting in front of our fireplace with a glass of red wine, smelling a pot roast simmering in the oven, and hanging out with my friends and family. I’m not sure why we feel this so strongly right now (Steve and I are on the same page at the moment); maybe there’s something about having been gone for a full year and missing things for the second time around that make it more difficult. Rest assured, Vermonters – we miss you!

In other odd tidbits, there have been the usual moments of serendipity and surprise. A couple of weeks ago, I got an email from an American woman who had just arrived in town and confessed to being a blog reader. She was kind enough to have looked at our “wish list” on the blog and generously brought me two boxes of my favorite cereal. I have savored every mouthful of Frosted Mini Wheats and Cracklin’ Oat Bran. Ah, the kindness and generosity of strangers!

While we can’t enjoy those freshly-picked Vermont MacIntosh apples, we do continue to enjoy the huge variety of fruit available here. There is always a lot to choose from, but as things come into season, they get ever more delicious and cheaper. I paid 75 cents per kilo for rambutan the other day (about 35 cents/lb) and shuddered to think about the time back home in Vermont that I splurged and bought some past-their-prime rambutan at the Asian market for $8/lb. (My advice is don't bother.) Having found lox in the freezer section of the local supermarket, I have finally learned to make bagels since none of the bagel options in town measure up. Steve made the most excellent pasta sauce last week and we ate that for two nights in a row with no complaints because it was so delicious. Sovann has just started his full-time studies at Ecole Paul Dubrule, the Cambodian equivalent of New England Culinary Institute, and I assume that his repertoire in the kitchen will soon expand and we’ll enjoy the benefits here at home.

    

We celebrated Steve’s 60^th birthday this past weekend in grand style. He and I spent Friday night at the big fancy hotel where he has a tennis membership, since his membership fee included a free night’s stay. I so rarely venture into these big hotels that I forget how foreign they can seem. We had a beautiful room overlooking the free-form pool and lush gardens, and it felt like we could have been in Orlando for all we knew. We had a real bathtub (a true luxury here), took advantage of the breakfast buffet and even had a complimentary massage that was vastly better than what one can get at the $6/hour places around downtown. It felt quite decadent. 

After coming home on Saturday, we got ready for Steve’s birthday party. Having invited all our local friends to stop by any time over the afternoon or evening to have a drink, we weren't sure how many to expect, but they showed up in large numbers! As usual, it was an lively mix of Cambodians and Westerners, and it was a lot of fun. I finally met some of Steve’s tennis partners , one of our Cambodian friends brought his extended family, and our driveway was packed with tuktuks, motos, and cars. (We know people here who have cars!!!) It was interesting to see how our varied our social circles are here; a few expats met each other for the first time. Leave it to Steve to know how to put together a good mix of guests, as always, and if the number of empty beer cans waiting to be cleaned up in the morning were any indication, it seems that everyone had a good time.

In between all the flooding and parties and day-to-day details of life, I had a bit of an adventure in Battambang province with Sovann’s family, which I think I will save for another entry. I only hope I can do the experience justice, because there is a story to be told if I can find the right words.