Moving

Sorry, no pictures yet... give me a couple days and I'll post them...

After nearly three months in Phnom Penh, I finally have a “home” of my own. I’m renting what Europeans would call a “flat,” on the second (or, to Americans, the third) floor of a newer building. I have the top two floors; the first has the living area, kitchen, bedroom, and two bathrooms. The upstairs has two more bedrooms and another bathroom. It’s a lot of space for one person, but I like to think of it as room for all the visitors I’ll have—or a roommate should I start to feel lonely. Simply getting in and out of the house is an adventure, as it has the steepest steps I’ve ever been on. Basically, I climb up and down a ladder. When it’s not raining (rare), the landlady opens the covering over the stairs, and that makes it a lot easier to fit my 5’9” frame on the stairs (I’m not really “sized” for Asia). So far, no tumbles, but it’s only been 3 days, so I’m guardedly optimistic about my time here.

What is most strange, at this point, is to have possessions again. For the last three months, I’ve had only what fit in my suitcases, plus some extra supplies picked up in the US. Suddenly, I have “stuff” again, though not much, and certainly not anything I’m really attached to. I’m realizing how little I actually need to live on (no television at this point, and no plans for one), and which things are kind of important (currently, I need a can opener if I want to eat half the food I bought).

In that sense, moving has resensitized me to the amazing luxury that is American living. For instance, in order to buy dishes, kitchen utensils, and cookware (minus the pesky can opener), I visited two markets, sent someone to a third, and haggled for what seemed like forever. My frying pan is from Korea; apparently this means it is of superior quality and worth the $8 I paid. I’m skeptical. For a comfortable chair, some bookshelves, and a table, I made two more trips around town. The fridge and the microwave necessitated stopping in at three shops, bargaining over each and every appliance, and eventually trying to explain how to deliver the fridge—in broken English and some very poor map drawing on my part. Though the prices are cheaper, there were times when I found myself wishing for a Target, just for the convenience.

My first real “problem” occurred on Monday morning. Sunday was my first night here, and the landlords, who speak no English, provided a padlock on the front door. It was pretty difficult to get unlatched with the key they gave me, and I had bought one of my own for added security. However, I had locked the original on the inside of the house during the day while I was home. This was no problem for going out during the daytime, because I latched my lock to the outside, and went in and out without a problem. Bedtime, though, presented an issue. I couldn’t open the old padlock, and it was in the space on the door where I needed to put my new lock so I could sleep without worrying about intruders (not like it’s a major concern, but hey, it is Cambodia). For hours on Sunday night (and with considerable frustration and a little despair), I tried the key, wiggling it in the padlock and trying secure the door—all to no avail. I had to settle for using the very shabby lock on the door handle, and sleeping with one eye open. In the morning, I tried to explain the situation to the very cute old Buddhist landlord couple downstairs. I dragged the poor woman up the ladder/stairs and made her look at what I’d done (after 5 minutes of her explaining how the lock on the front gate worked in case I came in after they were asleep). She took the key, and in one swift movement (it’s all in the wrist, I think) popped the lock open and looked at me as if I was the dumbest person she’d ever seen. Which, given the circumstance, might be true. I smiled sheepishly, replaced the door lock with my padlock, and practically ran down the ladder/stairs and off to work. I have no idea what she told her husband, but by the time I got home, they were polite enough to not laugh at me. At least I can now lock myself in at night. I suppose my safety is worth a little humiliation. I’m just glad they didn’t see me fall off a moto today. I think that was the more embarrassing moment…but that’s for another time.