Bring on the Tiger

Sua sadai jol chnam thmei! Or something like, Hello to Entering Year of New! Year of the Tiger, what what!

I got back to Phnom Penh just in time to ring in the new year Khmer style, which I did by eating at a Moroccon restaurant with a few American friends and then going to an expat bar for mojitos and drunk boys jumping in the pool. So, not Khmer style at all, it turns out. I wanted to do the Cambodian thing, but unfortunately what that entailed was loitering around a temple, covering my ears to protect them from acute Khmer music poisoning, and posing with my fascinating white friends for the endless barrage of camera phone portraits that naturally occur when barangs wander off the barang track and into the wild Khmer yonder. Not to say I'm opposed to that sort of local charm, but I just needed a little time to ease my way back into it. Or maybe I am opposed to that sort of local charm. So what.

At any rate, the night ended with a half showing of the timeless classic film Baby Mama and people passed out in crooked positions, so all in all I'd say it was a success.

What was not a success, however, was our trip to the market the following day to introduce our friend Katie, who just moved to Cambodia from rural Indonesia, to the joys of the clothes-stolen-from-the-GAP-factory section (so many cotton basics!). I guess we got carried away in all the crew necks, though, because the next thing we know, we're over at the pirated DVD counter about to buy some really quality stuff, kind of in the same genre as Baby Mama, and Katie no longer has a wallet. Nor does she have a purse without a gaping slit cut into it. In fact, she has a purse with a gaping slit cut into it, through which said wallet was extracted expertly by some sticky fingered market rat. Panic ensues for a minute as we piece together what happened, but it doesn't last very long. We cancel the cards and deal with all the details, and after a few minutes realize that it's really not that bad, and that it's kind of what's supposed to happen in sleazy markets, at least once or twice, in order to pay your dues to the traveling gods (it hasn't happened to me yet, but I'm expecting it any day now). It's funny how surprising and disorienting it is though, even when you know it's out there, and even when it actually happens to your friend and not to you -- you're still a victim and you still need to recover by going to get your second of three massages for the weekend, that's just a given.

Anyway, as good as it was to be home, to be spoiled, to have a little Cricket to snuggle with, and to see most of you folks, I'm happy to be back and really looking forward to the new year. I'm going to travel just a little wee bit more, drink my weight in passion fruit smoothies at least every week, if not every day, and blissfully blow my entire savings on coin purses and scarves. Hooha!

And then by this time next year, if all goes according to plan, I'll be well on my way to being the next Barbara Lee -- and I promise to remember all the little people who penpalled me along the way.

Happy 2010! May 2009 rot in hell.