The unfortunate and inevitable end has come. Tomorrow I spend my last day in Phnom Penh (for now at least) and I fly out at 11:30 pm. I have been incredibly fortunate in my very quick 23 years to have four places that I have called home. Of course there is the island I grew up on and definitely hold in the deepest place inside of me. Second was Ithaca where I attended college, but when I left there it felt final. Southern France is the third where I only spent one semester. And the fourth is here in Cambodia. Usually moving on from these major events I can deal with. I can normally accept that it was a determined amount of time, and once its over I move on to the next step. For some reason, that is currently not the case. Something else has happened inside my head that is making my departure seem that much more difficult. Even with the comfort of knowing that I will return within six months, I still sit unsettled.
As for what I've been up to has been a combination of busy days and very slow days filled with lots of reading. Much to our surprise, our friends Heng and Lin we met on new years eve came down to Kep to surprise us. We spent the day driving around and seeing Kep, and resting in the shade. The next morning we went for a somewhat perilous ride up one of the hills and much to our surprise we got up and down without incident. The road up was very steep with only a little bit of which was paved, the rest being unsteady rocks. We went to a place to where you normally watch the sunrise because of the direction it faces. We stayed there for a little bit and decided to head back to our guesthouses to get our things and get back on the road to Phnom Penh. Of course, we couldn't get away with our last bit of the trip having a driving obstacle. About an hour and a half into the four hour ride it started to downpour. We pulled over after ten or so minutes of driving. Drenched and waiting for the rain to pass a boy and his younger brother let us park under his roadside hut to wait and cover our bags with our ponchos. After a half hour the rain started to let up but didn't stop, and we got back on the road. Normally I would be stressed beyond reason, but I had the thickest and most stable tires of the three motos so if they weren't sliding around I should be ok. The four hour journey turned into about 7, but most importantly we made it back.
Once Vilde and I got back to Phnom Penh from Kep we were quick to try and sell our motos, as well as buying souvenirs and keeping up with friends we won't see for some time. Vilde only had three days in town while I had ten, so I tagged along while she did her errands knowing I would have more than enough time to do my own later on. Saturday I woke up early because Phea (staff from school) invited me to his home in Takeo province, two hours by moto. After all the stress of traveling around I was happy to get to Phea's house and spend the morning in a hammock talking with his parents (with Phea translating everything). We took an afternoon nap, and then Phea wanted to get back on the road because he had things he wanted to do in Phnom Penh the next day. On the way Phea asked if I wanted to try palm wine, so we stopped for a half hour break. I had tried palm juice back in November, which was painfully sweet but I managed to finish my share. I was expecting the worse for the palm wine, but when I took a sip I was shocked. The taste was much more subdued, I assume because of the fermentation. I was able to drink it fairly easily. We also had some stuffed frog, which I had also tried back in November. After that, we got back on the road to the city. And again, it began to rain as we got near the city slowing us down a bit.
Sunday was spent doing a few things, but mainly getting ready for Vilde to get to the airport and fly home. She went for a massage, and I did some more reading and catching up with people from home. Me, Vilde, Soriya and Elliot (a new volunteer) all packed into the tuk tuk to get to the airport and bid farewell. We got there before the gate even opened so we sat down and grabbed quick bite to eat. Dragging out the process as long as possible we finally said goodbye and Vilde went inside and the rest of us got back into the tuk tuk home.
The next day, I had one goal. Sell my moto. This task seemed much more difficult than finding someone who wanted to haggle over price. The engine was put through a gauntlet being driven around the country. Now something in the engine was impossibly loud and I wasn't too keen to fix it myself. My only hope was to find someone who would either overlook the noise (doubtful) or someone who would accept a little lower price willing to fix the problem themselves. I was hoping to sell the moto for 400, since I bought it for 450 and put about 150 into fixing it. In reality I was expecting around 200... if luck was on my side. So I did everything, had Soriya call the mechanic to see if he know anyone interested, asked staff at school, looked for shops around town that buy bikes for parts, shops that buy bikes to fix up and resell, and my last ditch effort, I put an add on the Vietnam Craigslist saying I was in Cambodia selling my bike. Everything became dead ends, except one. To my incredible surprise I got a reply to the add on craigslist, the last place I thought I would ever have a hit. So I got a phone call and set up a time to meet. When I pulled up I met the British man I spoke with on the phone and the first thing he noticed, the noise. He took a test ride and left his girlfriend with me for collateral. When he came back he said his only reservation was the noise and of course I understood. He was interested and asked all sorts of questions about mechanics with big bikes to the issue of having a Vietnamese bike in Cambodia. Luckily I've had six years of experience selling cheap and expensive wines to unknowing fools at home, so I felt somewhat prepared to stretch the truth. I never gave him false information I made some of the realities a bit softer than they are.
We took the bike to a mechanic that he trusted, and there came my biggest challenge. Taking what the mechanic might say and spinning the words into a sales pitch. I started the bike up and the mechanic started out by saying "You shouldn't even be driving this bike around town, the engine could break at any second." Great. I'm screwed. The guy asked the mechanic what it would take to fix it, and he said its one of two parts inside the engine and it will be good to go. Ok, things are looking up. How much to fix the noise and get the bike working properly? "I'm not sure, but it's one of two things and they are quick to fix and you only have to open the top of the engine without a major challenge." And that's it, I know I have it sold. The mechanic leaves us to work out and details and if he wants to still buy the bike. "Well I see two options," I say. "I can get the bike fixed on my own, raise the price and see if you still want to buy it. Or two, I can knock the price down to 350 and you can buy it now." He thinks about it, and time seems to stop in anticipation of his answer. Finally, "Yes. I'll buy if for 350." HA, sucker. I may have been too quick, but I was eager to pass the ownership card to him and have the 350 in cash in my hands. Once I had the cash, I was quick to get on the nearest moto in case he changed his mind.
After selling the moto, I was amazed. I thought that would take all week, and in my head I was ready to take the plates off the bike and park it somewhere with the key in the ignition and the ownership card taped to the tank. Well, now I have the week to do anything I want. I passed my time by reading quite a lot, doing some souvenir shopping and driving around town on motos borrowed from friends.
The final thing I did, which seemed to turn the tides on how I've been feeling about leaving was going to a place called Kean Svai. Its a place to sit by the river and picnic. It was a combination of staff and teachers from the school. We all packed onto motos and made the half hour trip there. We spent the morning enjoying food from the small market at the edge of the riverbank. Everything from mangos, grilled corn, rice, noodles, chicken, sticky rice, and a number of fruits I had not seen before, nor do I know the names in English. There was also turtle to taste, but no one bought it seeing as its illegal. After the food was finished, we spent some time talking, some laid down to rest, and some watched the Khmer staff play a card game. Even though all the staff was perfectly able to tell us how to play in English, there were four of us putting our heads together and picking up on different aspects of how to play this one game. The staff would speak Khmer, and we would try to figure it out and speak louder than they would in English trying to determine all the rules. Then after we thought we picked up all the rules, we decided to play one round without the help of the staff and see if we could figure it out. We got it mostly right, but the staff couldn't help but laugh at our choices of cards and insisted on playing our hands for us. I lost a whopping 1000 Riel (25 cents). Then the majority of the staff and teachers decided to take a little trip on a boat, while only four of us stayed. While they were on the boat, the four of us played the same card game, but without money. Its a good thing too because I would have lost quite a bit of money.
Playing cards at that moment is when I realized that it will be incredibly difficult to leave. I've met a few people both staff and outside of school who have impacted me greatly, and I can't quite pinpoint why. I spend time with them and even with a language barrier, conversation with them is beyond easy. I realized that I am going to miss these people greatly, even though I've known them for such a short time. Not only will I miss the people, but I'll miss the country. I've never encountered a place where every single person you meet is as nice as could be and they will help you if needed regardless of how little they know you. When I broke down six kilometers outside of Phnom Penh, a stranger who I guess didn't speak English slowed down and motioned to me asking if I needed help or a push. Here is a place that is full of the most genuinely happy people I have seen. Even meeting Phea's parents in Takeo, they were genuinely interested in learning all about my life and family before Cambodia, even though his dad only knew one phrase in English. Life here is just so incredibly easy. I truly have no idea how to describe what I mean, or even an example to give to show what I mean.
All I know is that for some reason, six months away from here seems too long and it seems like too much will happen in that time. At home, that translates to another summer, or a little more than a semester at school. Here, the country is in such a rapid state of development it could mean that the next building in the developing skyline is finished. Some of the people I have met will have moved onto new jobs and it will be harder to see them. Not only is everything here changing so quickly, I am returning home where time seems to stop moving. Summers are filled with work, the beach and bars. I am excited to go home and see family and friends, which is what I look forward to the most. But after living here, going back home and having to endure the tourists for the summer, especially the August ones... It seems an impossible task.
I know how this all sounds, but I don't feel as bogged down as it sounds. I know once I get home and settle in I will be as happy as a clam with being around family and friends. Returning home will be wonderful I know, but I am bound to have some difficulty reintegrating my mind back into the proper state of thinking. But who knows, maybe the second I step off the boat and see my family all of this will wash away and I will be totally focused on life at home.
I will miss Cambodia while I'm gone, but I'll be back before I know it.
