19 September 2005 – Phnom Penh

After a hearty breakfast at the hotel I met the owner of “Frizz” restaurant (www.frizz-restaurant.com) , Fritz, about starting my Cambodian cooking class. As it turns out, I am the only student and will be getting one-on-one expert training.

The teacher takes me through the local market to explain all the different types of vegetables, fruits, and herbs that are used in Cambodian cooking. Some are familiar – I see them in the markets in Taiwan. Some I’ve seen but never known what they are or how they are sused. Despite the smells and dirt, it was a very good experience.

The teacher is a little older than myself and survived the Khmer Rouge genocide. She spent 11 years in a Thai border camp and has lost many family members. While shopping she meets a friend from the camps that she has not seen since they left Thailand. They exchange phone numbers and plan to meet each other to catch up.

In the class we make traditional Khmer spring rolls (Num Chaio), fish cooked with red curry, eggplant, onions, and potato; banana in coconut milk with tapioca; and Amok which is steamed fish souffled with curry and coconut milk in a banana leave bowl.

The highlight for me was making the red curry paste used for both fish dishes by hand using mortar and pestle. Both dishes came out wonderful. They are much more subtly flavored than the red curry dishes I’ve had in Thailand. The homemade curry paste smelled so wonderful – much better than the packaged stuff.

During breaks where we are tasting the food we have prepared the teacher talks a little about her life. She is a widow and her husband died of AIDS. She has been tested several times and is confirmed negative. She has five children, three girls and two boys. The older boy has a heart condition, was adopted by an American couple. She says she is happy he is well cared for but I could tell that she misses being a part of his life. She currently has no idea where he is.

Later in the day she discussed life in Khmer Rouge Cambodia and her decision to escape the work camp she was in and flee to the Thai border camps. She described being bound and tortured, slowly being starved to death with tiny rations of rice, and hard labor in the rice fields from sun up to sun down.

After the class I return to the FCC one last time to wait for Lucky. Below me is an endless parade of students, moto-taxi drivers, monks on scooters, children begging, and people just living their lives in Phnom Penh. Depsite the filth and poverty I will miss being in this city. The atmosphere is friendly, hopeful, and lively. Fritz, the restaurant owner, remarked that Laos is similar buy maybe not as lively. I will see…

I think I have taken 15,000 photos of monks since this trip began (four days ago). The bright robes in such a drab place always catch my eye. I find it particularly fun when they are riding a moto, talking on the cell phone, or doing something else one doesn’t expect to find a monk doing.

Although it’s not the safest option, touring the city by moto-taxi is the way to go. There is nothing between you and the city. I really feel as though I have been able to experience the city up close. I dread the day I cannot experience things like this because I am too old…

I’m perched on along the railing of the FCC sipping a gin and tonic and watching Phnom Penh life go by. A minibus just went by with the following painted on its side in large letters (with nothing else written on the bus): “Passenger liability insurance included.” That would not instill confidence if I were one of their customers…

A mahut passes riding his elephant. The pace and gate of the elephant make me think the elephant wishes she could take the bus that just passed. A young lady dashes across the street with two French baguettes for the elephant, which are gobbled up in one swallow. Revived, the elephant continues lumbering down the avenue.

Sitting here, sipping Bombay and tonics, is so wonderful. I do not want to leave. What will happen when I return to the U.S.? Will I be happy? I certainly miss my family and many of the amenities the U.S. has to offer. I hope to get out to Asia once a year – but how will all these things balance out?

Well, althought my fat pants are feeling a little tight, I am enjoying one last meal at the hotel. I am staring with the lobster bisque with a Sauvignon Blanc followed by veal medallions with a Long Flat Shiraz from Tynell’s Winery.

I continue to think about the discussion I had with my cooking teacher today. Her vocabulary was very limited and yet her descriptions of life in Khmer Rouge Cambodia are haunting. I fill in the words she spoke with thoughts and ideas expressed in the memoirs I’ve read that detail similar experiences. The expression on her face as she described her being bound and threatened with death stays in my memory. During one of our tasting sessions she portioned out about ¼ cup of rice to show me how much they were rationed each day in the KR work camps. She told me on a good day they might get a pinch of salt with their ration.

While I write this I enjoy veal, lobster, risotto, and wine. My dinner tonight was inexpensive by American standards yet the cost could feed a Cambodian family for a month or more. Guilt is setting in…

I wonder what life is like in the provinces of Cambodia. Do they have electricity? Are they even aware of the Internet? Do they understand what a computer is? These things, these technologies that are supposed to be bringing the world together, are wonderful but how many people are being left behind? What is being done to help them catch up? What, if anything, can I do to help?

Perhaps I think too much…

So, what to do for one afternoon and evening in Bangkok? I’ve always wanted to see Jim Thompson’s house – the antiques are supposedly noteworthy. Right now food is not high on the list. But some wine and watching the Chao Praya River activity is desireable. Again, I will miss living in Asia…