I love Google Alerts. Really, I do. It passes on interesting articles directly to my email inbox. And while I'm not being paid to advertise for them (as if they need my help!), I just want to mention it because it will let you know that I was certainly not looking for this article that dropped into my box this morning.
Now, landmines are not a laughing matter (except in certain cases, like when watching the UN anti-landmine video, which takes place on a soccer field. Though there's disagreement on that particular example.), and I'm not generally given to laughing at horrible tragedy. I'm not certain that a landmine beauty pageant is funny (stop now, go read the article, and then come back), but it certainly is... no, I don't have an adjective for this. It's frightening, as it seems the women are competing to earn prosthetic limbs. It's weird, that anyone would think this was a good idea. It's potentially liberating (?) as maybe it teaches these women that they are still beautiful even after an awful accident.
Then again, I just watched Miss Congeniality last night, so my whole perspective on beauty pagents is off right now. But I really do like Google Alerts.
4.21.2008
4.12.2008
Solved
The mouse is dead. Of course, this didn't happen without a lot of hilarity. Mainly in the form of other people laughing at my expression regarding the mouse. Grace, who works with me, taunted me by telling me the mouse followed me to work; the woman at the store who sold me a mousetrap laughed as I shivered in the aisle at purchasing poison. And then there was a memorable conversation with the neighborhood.
First, the trap. I bought a glue trap (which is completely inhumane, blah blah blah). I have very little compassion for this mouse. Also, everyone else told me to get a cat, so I think this is the least awful way for the mouse to go. As you can see... the glue trap is quite colorful.
First, the trap. I bought a glue trap (which is completely inhumane, blah blah blah). I have very little compassion for this mouse. Also, everyone else told me to get a cat, so I think this is the least awful way for the mouse to go. As you can see... the glue trap is quite colorful.
Note that the mouse has little electric-looking shocks coming off of him. When I showed the trap to the neighbors to let them know that we had a mouse problem, they became very concerned. After trying to decipher why they were upset, I realized they thought that we were going to electrocute the mouse. I'm not even sure how you would go about killing a mouse in that fashion. I assured them that we were just going to get it nice and stuck.
And in the end, the mouse was nice and stuck (and dead!) and we (mainly Deanna) removed him from the laundry room and the apartment is mouse-free once again. I'm now free to eat as many snacks as I wish. I did, however, see a mouse at the office the other day. Do you think they are following me?
4.09.2008
Mousehunt
I was going to blog about something real and relevant about how I'm feeling and what I think about Cambodia. You know, something other than silly marriage proposal stories. And then my life was rudely interrupted by something small and furry.
While cooking dinner this evening, a mouse ran past me and behind the refrigerator. Perhaps you don't know this, but I am not a fan of small, furry animals. So, of course, my reaction was to freak out. Not necessarily screaming, but definitely not actively pursuing the mouse. Poor Deanna (my new roommate) has been a champ, agreeing to look for The Invader and try to get rid of It. The last sighting was when That Creature ran into the laundry room (after almost touching me while I was spying on the stairs-- the only time I screamed), and we're hoping It surreptitiously slipped out the back door while we were eating dinner. When we looked again, The Enemy was gone.
When I lived in California, I killed crickets like crazy. I've squashed cockroaches here, and put up with lizards, spiders, and other giant flying insects. Yet this mouse is another story entirely. I don't like it one bit, and we are getting a trap tomorrow. I'm willing to blame habitat destruction for this unforseen event; there is a school being built behind the apartment, and all the foliage has been cleared, likely leaving our new houseguest homeless. That certainly doesn't make It welcome, though. I should also add that every noise that comes through the walls (and there's a lot... I think the neighbors are moving furniture) is making me think that The Intruder is loose and creating havoc. It's not a nice thought.
So now I am hiding out in my bedroom, hungry for a snack, but too afraid to face The Monster in the Kitchen. I realize that it's pathetic, but it's just the way things are. Until the problem is taken care of, no more serious reflection. Or, apparently, snacks.
While cooking dinner this evening, a mouse ran past me and behind the refrigerator. Perhaps you don't know this, but I am not a fan of small, furry animals. So, of course, my reaction was to freak out. Not necessarily screaming, but definitely not actively pursuing the mouse. Poor Deanna (my new roommate) has been a champ, agreeing to look for The Invader and try to get rid of It. The last sighting was when That Creature ran into the laundry room (after almost touching me while I was spying on the stairs-- the only time I screamed), and we're hoping It surreptitiously slipped out the back door while we were eating dinner. When we looked again, The Enemy was gone.
When I lived in California, I killed crickets like crazy. I've squashed cockroaches here, and put up with lizards, spiders, and other giant flying insects. Yet this mouse is another story entirely. I don't like it one bit, and we are getting a trap tomorrow. I'm willing to blame habitat destruction for this unforseen event; there is a school being built behind the apartment, and all the foliage has been cleared, likely leaving our new houseguest homeless. That certainly doesn't make It welcome, though. I should also add that every noise that comes through the walls (and there's a lot... I think the neighbors are moving furniture) is making me think that The Intruder is loose and creating havoc. It's not a nice thought.
So now I am hiding out in my bedroom, hungry for a snack, but too afraid to face The Monster in the Kitchen. I realize that it's pathetic, but it's just the way things are. Until the problem is taken care of, no more serious reflection. Or, apparently, snacks.
4.07.2008
Illegal
On the heels of my last post regarding unsolicited marriage proposals, I opened my email to find an article about Cambodia's new rules regarding foreign marriage. Obviously, the problem they're attempting to address is quite serious, but it does give me a new answer to parking attendants, moto drivers, and any other potential grooms: "Sorry, dude, but I'm not allowed to marry you."
Read another article here.
Read another article here.
4.05.2008
Oops
Perhaps I spoke too soon. When I headed back to my new favorite coffee shop to avoid the power outage, soak up the a/c, and attempt to finish my taxes, I ran into my new friend, Lyhov. He gave me a friendly greeting, watched over my motorbike, and when we left, I once again found myself turning down a marriage proposal. I think.
Lyhov and his fellow parking attendant (no name, sorry) were impressed that I told them "see you later" in Khmer, and then Lyhov gestured to his friend and said something to the effect of "Do you want him to be your husband?" I replied, "No, thank you." (I mean, it's not the most romantic proposal... the man was wearing a surgical mask at the time!) Apparently the friend thought Lyhov was shortchanging himself, because he got involved, asking me if I wanted to marry Lyhov, or to make him my "special" (read: boyfriend). When I (briefly) studied persuasive tactics in college, we studied this particular strategy: ask for something outrageous and then move to a smaller request, which won't seem so difficult to fulfill. Too bad I am wise to those games! Instead, there was only more practice at declining oh-so-tempting marriage proposals for me.
In non-marriage related news, I saw someone else on the road wearing the same helmet that I have (and thought, wow, what a great helmet!). I think this makes me a helmet trendsetter, and I'm quite proud. A few weeks ago, someone commented that the Pink Helmet is quite stylish, and wasn't I special for owning one (and yes, they were serious, thank you very much). Just in case you were worried that I 1) wasn't wearing a helmet or 2) was wearing an unfashionable helmet. Safety and fashion... all rolled into one. I guess that ends up being attractive to some people. Like parking attendants. Sheesh.
Lyhov and his fellow parking attendant (no name, sorry) were impressed that I told them "see you later" in Khmer, and then Lyhov gestured to his friend and said something to the effect of "Do you want him to be your husband?" I replied, "No, thank you." (I mean, it's not the most romantic proposal... the man was wearing a surgical mask at the time!) Apparently the friend thought Lyhov was shortchanging himself, because he got involved, asking me if I wanted to marry Lyhov, or to make him my "special" (read: boyfriend). When I (briefly) studied persuasive tactics in college, we studied this particular strategy: ask for something outrageous and then move to a smaller request, which won't seem so difficult to fulfill. Too bad I am wise to those games! Instead, there was only more practice at declining oh-so-tempting marriage proposals for me.
In non-marriage related news, I saw someone else on the road wearing the same helmet that I have (and thought, wow, what a great helmet!). I think this makes me a helmet trendsetter, and I'm quite proud. A few weeks ago, someone commented that the Pink Helmet is quite stylish, and wasn't I special for owning one (and yes, they were serious, thank you very much). Just in case you were worried that I 1) wasn't wearing a helmet or 2) was wearing an unfashionable helmet. Safety and fashion... all rolled into one. I guess that ends up being attractive to some people. Like parking attendants. Sheesh.
4.02.2008
Quickly
Yesterday I was leaving a coffee shop and the parking attendant was chatting with me. Although my Khmer is still pretty limited, I can do short, basic conversations-- names, ages, I live in Cambodia, work for an NGO, I only speak a little Khmer--this usually earns me mild approval and even some respect from people I meet. Lyhov was no different.
So we were proceeding through the intro information, when he asked me a question about my house (bptea... a word I recognize). I didn't quite get his meaning, so he tried again, something to the effect of "Do you live with your husband (padei)?" I shook my head no, starting to laugh, and replied "K'nyom aht rivpkah" (I'm not married). His next question--and I should have seen this coming-- "Why don't you have a husband?"
My vocabulary is not nearly large enough to even begin to answer that. At least he didn't ask me to marry him.
So we were proceeding through the intro information, when he asked me a question about my house (bptea... a word I recognize). I didn't quite get his meaning, so he tried again, something to the effect of "Do you live with your husband (padei)?" I shook my head no, starting to laugh, and replied "K'nyom aht rivpkah" (I'm not married). His next question--and I should have seen this coming-- "Why don't you have a husband?"
My vocabulary is not nearly large enough to even begin to answer that. At least he didn't ask me to marry him.
3.31.2008
Annoying
I’ve been a little homesick lately, but I think it’s less about missing people and places as it is missing constants, and feeling annoyed with the way things work here. So please allow me this brief interlude of complaint, and then we’ll get back to our regularly scheduled enjoyment of all things Cambodia.
First, the power outages. I know I live in a developing nation right now, and I need to deal with some inconveniences, but really, is it too much to ask that the power not be shut off daily for hours at a time? The supply of electricity in the city is not enough to meet the demands since the recent construction of larger buildings with big air conditioning systems. If you’re wondering, air conditioners use quite a bit of power (to the tune of an extra $2 or more a day here), and nearly all of the newest stores and restaurants cool their buildings considerably. In any case, the rest of the city has to deal with unannounced power outages at all times of the day. One day, the electricity went out around 12:30 and didn’t come back on until nearly 5 p.m. On Saturday night, from 8:15 to 11 p.m. we were without power... it wasn't easy to fall asleep without the fan.
I know I should not be so snarky about the loss of power. I should be grateful to have it at all. I guess what really unnerves me is that some people never lose power… the way the grids work, some houses are assured of a constant stream of electricity, and the center of the city (business districts, hotels, tourist locales) rarely loses power. Meanwhile, those of us on the outskirts, the ones who can’t afford or don’t want to live “downtown” have to live with spontaneous outages interrupting our daily lives (and fruit shake blending!), and for me that means living without a fan as the heat climbs up to 95 degrees, with 75% humidity. In other words, sweltering. (aside: I ran into a tourist today who asked me: “How long does it take you to get used to the heat?” HA!)
And the construction! They have started building a school behind my house, so there’s no end to the pile driving, dust-flinging, noise-creating havoc being wreaked only a few meters from my door. I can’t hang my laundry outside anymore, and until recently couldn’t even open the window. They begin every day about 6:30 (even on Saturdays) and pound until 6 p.m. The worst part? They’ve only just begun.
I’ve been unnerved by how inconvenient life can be; the grocery stores are on the other side of town, and even though I get fruit and veggies from the small local market, I am unwilling to buy meat there, since if I go in the evenings, it’s been sitting in the heat all day (they butcher the meat locally and only in the morning). I went on a hunt for a product that is readily available in the US (canned air to clean the ever-present dust out of my computer) and spent 2 days at 6 different stores before I found it. I really miss driving by Trader Joe’s or Best Buy… the easy things. Of course, wishing for those kind of businesses would make this place very un-Cambodia, and I’ll have to make peace with leaving them behind.
I have to interrupt my own rant to say that while I was writing this, one of our staff just came into my office and offered me some food. At first it looked like fried fish, but after some broken Khmer/English dialogue, I think it was fried mango. There’s no way to be sure. I took as small a piece as I could, and tasted it. Not as bad as some of the things I’ve tried, but not something I’ll purchase for myself. Of course, as soon as I mentioned that it was good, she offered me a lot more. I declined. This happens about once a week. Other staff are eating raw mangoes in the main office, and those are delicious. I guess I should make it abundantly clear that I am not annoyed by the mangoes in Cambodia, nor the generosity of the staff. Those things make me very happy.
It took me awhile to write this post, and my annoyance has calmed considerably since I started. Part of that is because I’ve had good time to spend with friends here, and I think I’ve accepted (well, at least a little) some of the things that have been getting on my nerves. Mostly, as my one-year anniversary approaches, I think these are the issues that continue to remind me that I’m not at “home” yet, and that maybe I never will be. In any case, at least I can drown my annoyance with mangoes (though not the fried kind).
First, the power outages. I know I live in a developing nation right now, and I need to deal with some inconveniences, but really, is it too much to ask that the power not be shut off daily for hours at a time? The supply of electricity in the city is not enough to meet the demands since the recent construction of larger buildings with big air conditioning systems. If you’re wondering, air conditioners use quite a bit of power (to the tune of an extra $2 or more a day here), and nearly all of the newest stores and restaurants cool their buildings considerably. In any case, the rest of the city has to deal with unannounced power outages at all times of the day. One day, the electricity went out around 12:30 and didn’t come back on until nearly 5 p.m. On Saturday night, from 8:15 to 11 p.m. we were without power... it wasn't easy to fall asleep without the fan.
I know I should not be so snarky about the loss of power. I should be grateful to have it at all. I guess what really unnerves me is that some people never lose power… the way the grids work, some houses are assured of a constant stream of electricity, and the center of the city (business districts, hotels, tourist locales) rarely loses power. Meanwhile, those of us on the outskirts, the ones who can’t afford or don’t want to live “downtown” have to live with spontaneous outages interrupting our daily lives (and fruit shake blending!), and for me that means living without a fan as the heat climbs up to 95 degrees, with 75% humidity. In other words, sweltering. (aside: I ran into a tourist today who asked me: “How long does it take you to get used to the heat?” HA!)
And the construction! They have started building a school behind my house, so there’s no end to the pile driving, dust-flinging, noise-creating havoc being wreaked only a few meters from my door. I can’t hang my laundry outside anymore, and until recently couldn’t even open the window. They begin every day about 6:30 (even on Saturdays) and pound until 6 p.m. The worst part? They’ve only just begun.
I’ve been unnerved by how inconvenient life can be; the grocery stores are on the other side of town, and even though I get fruit and veggies from the small local market, I am unwilling to buy meat there, since if I go in the evenings, it’s been sitting in the heat all day (they butcher the meat locally and only in the morning). I went on a hunt for a product that is readily available in the US (canned air to clean the ever-present dust out of my computer) and spent 2 days at 6 different stores before I found it. I really miss driving by Trader Joe’s or Best Buy… the easy things. Of course, wishing for those kind of businesses would make this place very un-Cambodia, and I’ll have to make peace with leaving them behind.
I have to interrupt my own rant to say that while I was writing this, one of our staff just came into my office and offered me some food. At first it looked like fried fish, but after some broken Khmer/English dialogue, I think it was fried mango. There’s no way to be sure. I took as small a piece as I could, and tasted it. Not as bad as some of the things I’ve tried, but not something I’ll purchase for myself. Of course, as soon as I mentioned that it was good, she offered me a lot more. I declined. This happens about once a week. Other staff are eating raw mangoes in the main office, and those are delicious. I guess I should make it abundantly clear that I am not annoyed by the mangoes in Cambodia, nor the generosity of the staff. Those things make me very happy.
It took me awhile to write this post, and my annoyance has calmed considerably since I started. Part of that is because I’ve had good time to spend with friends here, and I think I’ve accepted (well, at least a little) some of the things that have been getting on my nerves. Mostly, as my one-year anniversary approaches, I think these are the issues that continue to remind me that I’m not at “home” yet, and that maybe I never will be. In any case, at least I can drown my annoyance with mangoes (though not the fried kind).
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