Getting Around

Motos, scooters, or mopeds overrun the roads.

City life means figuring out how to get around, and there are many options for getting around Phnom Penh. Most of the forms of transportation involve motorcycles in one way or another. It's the creativity with the motorcycles that truly makes getting around Phnom Penh an interesting endeavor. First, there are the motos, or scooters, that are the standard form of transportation in and outside of the cities. Have a family with 4 kids who all need to go to school? No problem! Everyone on the scooter for a quick trip to school. But if you don't want to take your kids to school yourself in the morning, there are a plethora of vans that act as school buses for the plethora of private and English schools throughout the city.

You can also get a moto ride just as you would a taxi from any of the moto drivers prowling the streets. If you need to go somewhere with your friends, there are also tuk tuks, which are similar to rickshaws. They have a moto attached to a more elaborate cart with a comfortable seat and roof. They're another taxi equivalent, but they're more closed to the elements than a moto something you'll want to consider if you see plean threatening in the sky. Want to go more old-fashioned? Take a pedi-taxi, which looks like a big chair attached to the front of a bike. Personally, I've never taken one, so I can't recommend or warn you against them, but I do see some people taking them closer to the city center for shorter distances. There are also truck taxis that take people to and from the provinces to Phnom Penh, which are trucks with benches in the back. Lastly, there are the all-too-familiar mode of transportation in the US: cars. Having a car usually means your family is pretty wealthy, which is why there are so many motos and scooters on the roads.

Tuk Tuks getting friends from one place to another.

Isn't there some form of public transportation in the cities? The short answer is no, but there has been much talk in the past decade of installing some form of train or bus system at least in the capital. For with all of the motos and tuk tuks on the road, it can get very crowded in the morning and evening rush hours, not to mention the crazy traffic patterns. However, given the length of the talk and the general inaction, I doubt anyone is planning on seeing its construction anytime soon.

A group of vehicles beginning to turn left.

Traffic in Cambodia follows one rule: go with the flow. Quite literally, the roads are like an ocean. You have the minnows which are the pedestrians and people riding bicycles, the motos are your standard-sized fish, the tuk tuks and carts are the bigger fish, and the cars, vans, and other trucks are the whales of varying sizes. All of these submarine participants in the flow of traffic make for a ride anywhere that is simultaneously frightening and awe-inspiring.

The group made it successfully across with a few more following suit.

Why is it frightening? While there have been an increased number of traffic lights installed and enforced in the major cities, other traffic laws common in the US, such as not crossing over double lines, one way streets, and stop signs, are generally considered optional or nonexistent in Cambodian traffic patterns.  This means that when you want to go somewhere, you just do it. This is how the roads begin to resemble an ocean traffic pattern. If you want to merge into traffic, you simply begin inching out till you become one with the rest of the flow. This laissez-faire style of traffic is the main reason I plan on sticking to being transported as opposed to transporting myself in Cambodia.

Plean, Plean, Plean...

When someone says the phrase "rainy season" they generally mean it. It's the rainy season in Cambodia, and that means daily rains that more than likely rival even London's notorious rain clouds. For someone who loves the rain but lives in Colorado, where we're more known for fires as opposed to rainfall, the almost daily sound of rain is a welcome change. In fact, one of the first words I learned in Khmer was actually the word for rain: plean (pronounced plee-an). Usually the rains come when you least expect them.  The sky grows dark, but it doesn't rain for another hour or so. And when it does you're walking home. At least its beautiful sound tempers the fact that you're soaked to the skin in a matter of seconds.

The sound of the rain.

What becomes of all this rain in Cambodia? Much of the rain that falls here feeds into two main rivers, the Mekong and the Tonle Sap River. One of Cambodia's most prominent geographic features, the Tonle Sap River and its Lake are geographic oddities. From April to October, the Tonle Sap flows in its normal seaward direction emptying the Tonle Sap Lake into the Pacific Ocean.  However, in October when the ice melt from the Himalayas finally flows to Phnom Penh with the Mekong, the volume of water is so great in the Mekong that a magical feat of physics actually reverses the flow of the Tonle Sap River to go into the Tonle Sap Lake.  The reversal of the flow of the River causes the lake to expand, flooding the area and allowing fish to multiply.  Many fisherman have taken up residence in the Tonle Sap Lake in houses on stilts to take advantage of the plethora of fish during the dry season. 

Wait, so the Mekong has more water in it during the dry season? Yes, actually, because it has spent the past half of the year collecting the Spring ice melt in the Himalayas and the monsoon rains from 5 other countries that also have a rainy season1.  It just takes a few months for all of the water to get to Cambodia, which is on the southernmost end of continental Southeast Asia.  That's a long way for water to travel only to reverse its course to spend more time in the Tonle Sap River. Yet, the annual flooding of the Tonle Sap River basin keeps the rice farms growing their excellent crop in the dry season through a vast irrigation network.

Yet, the rain is not always welcome in Cambodia. Many people are rightly concerned with what comes with the rain: thunderstorms. As one of the main causes of death in the rural areas of Cambodia, lightning is a very real danger here. Without much protection in the wide open rice fields, many people take shelter underneath palm trees, which unfortunately only draw the lightning to them.  Luckily, cities are more immune to this danger, but many people still take extra precautions if even a hint of thunder comes through the clouds. The streets around my host family's house rapidly become empty and people avoid using electronics so as not to get a surge. Of course, not everyone takes the lightning as seriously since we are in the city, but I have heard this advice from several Cambodians.  But this danger brings about 75% of the nation's annual rainfall 1. So as the summer rains set in wherever you are in the world, don't forget to steer clear of lightning and enjoy the sounds.

A B C D...

In this case, it's no longer, A, B, C, D, but instead is...

What's that? You have no idea what those squiggles stand for? That's how I felt starting my first week of classes. We have conquered about half of the alphabet this week by learning 33 consonants (phcuncak) and 24 vowels (sraak). A long way to come in just 5 days, but somehow we did it! Now to learn the other 24 vowels that only go with the other sound group of consonants. Ok, at this point I must seem like I'm talking in jibberish so I'll explain.

Khmer is fortunately not a tonal language. Good! However, for each sound there is a different letter. For example, instead of using "a" to represent the sounds it makes in both cat and father, they use two different vowel symbols. It sounds great! There's no confusion about how to pronounce things. Far easier than having to memorize all the sounds of the different words like we do in English. But then there are all of the characters that necessarily come with having a different letter for each different sound. Hence the need for 33 different consonants and 48 vowels. There are actually more of each, but we haven't learned about all their different forms yet. You and I will both have to stay tuned!

The chart for the different vowel sounds. They represent a different sound depending on the type of consonant they're with, either high or low register. 

One thing we have learned about in the consonant realm is how to put two consonant sounds together when reading. In the spoken language, this is simply done by listening and attempting to put the correct two sounds together, but when you read you need to know which sound comes first and which comes second. For example, when we read the word "truck" our eyes and brains have become trained to put the separate "t" and "r" sounds together in sequential order to make "tr." When you go back to learning how to read again, you have to relearn how to do this while learning new vocabulary and putting characters to words you already know. Learning what the words look like on paper definitely helps with pronunciation, however, in Khmer, it means that you'll need to learn a new way to write consonants, called juin. The new form of consonants are sometimes smaller versions of the letter and sometimes completely new small symbols. It seems like a lot, doesn't it? I suppose in the end, it will make reading easier, but now, reading seems like a truly magical act. 

All of the different juin.

What does Khmer look like then? A series of consonants with different vowel symbols around them all strung together. My writing is nonexistent right now, but I can offer some visuals from one of my textbooks that talks about family vocabulary. 

By the end of my classes in Cambodia, I might be able to read simple sentences without too much trouble (think of the See Spot Run books that are classics in my family's household). For now, I'll stick with trying to remember which sound goes with which letter. Any ideas for how to make that go smoother?

All of the above pictures taken from: Khmer for Foreigners. Royal University of Phnom Penh Linguistics Department. 2012.

The Cambodian Family: A Primer

My first thought on writing this post is: Where to begin??? There are many components to a Cambodian family, just as there are with any family. But how to best capture them all in their appropriate light? Now that's a tough one. As with any family, not everything is as it seems, and I know that I cannot possibly capture everything, especially in a blog post. So bear with me as I attempt explain one family that I have come to know already in my brief time here. 

For their privacy's sake, I'll be calling my family the Neakru family. Why is that, you ask? Because both parents are teachers, and in Khmer, teacher is neakru (well, at least a female teacher because Khmer is a language that distinguishes between genders for a number of things. And in case you'd like to know, neakru is pronouced "knee-a-cru"). The host father I don't see very often. He goes to work in the morning, comes home for lunch in the middle of the day, and then has dinner at home. Otherwise, I don't really see him much in the household picture at all. The main manager of the house is then Mother Neakru. She oversees three boys all under the age of 12 and one helper/maid. Our household maid lives with us, takes care of much of the cooking (though Mother Neakru still contributes to most dishes), cleans some of the house (again because Neakru also does her part), and makes sure the boys have what they need when they need it. She opens the gate when they get home from school, and sets up their meals at dinner time.

But that brings me to another important aspect of the family dynamics: the house. Our house doesn't look like much from the street; just a silver-painted gate. However, once you enter through the gate the rest of the house opens up as well. You first come to what we'd consider the garage. The car is parked there, which is especially important since the street is small but busy so there would be no place for it out there, and the outside shoes are left there as well. You pass the car and come to the front door, and it's time to take off your grimy outside shoes. Once you do, it's into the foyer and living area. It seems huge with a ceiling that stretches up through the second floor, and it appears even grander because of the beautifully carved ornate furniture lining the perimeter of the room. Most of the family time is spent here watching tv, having dinner, talking to visiting guests, or watching me try to learn Khmer from Neakru. Now it's time to find the small hallway on the right side of the back wall. That will take you to my room on the left, then the bathroom, then the kitchen and stairs to the upstairs bedroom and bathroom. 

The threshold door. Don't forget to wipe your feet too!

A word about bathrooms (don't worry, I'm not going into any vivid details here, so feel free to keep reading): they're used very often in a Khmer household. Why? Because the heat makes taking more than one or even two showers a day, even quick ones, a fabulous necessity. As someone who grew up on the east coast and has lived for a couple years in Colorado, I have become much more sensitive to humidity changes.  For example, on any given day in Colorado Springs, the humidity hovers between 20-40%, which is pretty darn dry if you ask any non-residents. On the east coast, that changes to 60-80%, which is humid but bearable on most days. But in Phnom Penh, the humidity level at this time of year is between 80 and 90%. Yikes! For anyone that means there's a lot of sweat involved in your day whether you like it or not, which in turn means that multiple showers translates to basic hygiene. Perhaps some would still call this excessive, but I'd like to think that after walking to and from class, which is about a 10 minute walk each way, I deserve that cold shower. 

Ah classes. They're the reason I'm here! We had our first class today, and we learned to say some basic phrases of conversation to get us through introductions and getting to know where someone is from. I decided to try some of my new knowledge out this afternoon, and my host brothers just smiled. I hadn't violated any unwritten laws, but I had taken a step towards taking them away from their shyness. I guess that will come in more good time. But for now, it's off to the books for me. These Khmer characters won't trace themselves!

Two pages down, three to go before I'm done with all 34 consonants. Vowels? Those will wait for tomorrow. 

An Orientation to Being a Little Kid

Somehow I made it! After 2 days of travel, I made it to Phnom Penh. It's such a large city that I hardly know what to do with myself, but I'm sure some time with a map will remedy that situation. I've found my way to the first day of orientation, so I'll take that as a good sign. 

Speaking of orientation, there are about 8 people in the program including myself, but interestingly enough no males.  With all of the female energy on this trip, there's sure to be a lot trips to Tuol Tom, the bustling Russian Market, or the other local markets that spot the city.  We almost made a run there today, but the heat and the sheer volume of energy it takes to operate in the Cambodian heat squashed that little idea. Instead, we went through orientation and took in all of the safety precautions and suggestions about living with our host families, like how to greet them properly and that it would take a lot to be able to help our family do chores since we're still considered guests. Then we completed our pretest, which was incredibly easy for me since I don't read, write or speak all but 3 words in Khmer. However, given that everyone else seems to have taken Khmer for at least 1 year prior to this, I know I have a very long way to go. At least all of our spoken skills are roughly on the same level. After the stress of orientation, we decided to go to lunch at a vegetarian place down the street, and it was very nice to get some noodles and coffee into my system.

Afterwards, I returned to my host family's house and began my first unofficial lessons in Khmer. Whenever I'm learning a new language, especially in a country that speaks it, I get the feeling that I'm a little kid again. Learning your numbers and constantly asking "what's this?" and "how do you say...?" reminds me of my little cousins learning English. But no matter how silly I feel, I know that I need to behave like a little kid, at least at that level. By doing so, I was able to learn the Khmer names of the fruits that always make a stay in Cambodia more refreshing. Mangosteen, rambutan, and lychee are some of my favorites, and to make things even better it's fruit season! 

 Though my host mother, whom I will call Mother Nakru, taught me all about my numbers and a few of the names of fruit, I also learned that both her and her husband are teachers! She teaches at a local university and her husband teaches at the same school her 3 sons attend. It's almost a whole household of teachers! I definitely couldn't have been placed in a better home stay situation. My host family's very limited use of English, while difficult to navigate will surely help as I keep increasing my knowledge of Khmer. 

Rambutan: these remind me of anenomes.

An American metropolitan favorite: lychee.

The odd-looking but definitely sweet mangosteen.

Off to the Airport!

It's about that time. The bags are packed, the car is ready to go, and the farewells have been said to my family. I'd be nervous but for the flickers of excitement rolling through my brain. 

This trip will be one of numbers. My time to Cambodia semi-solo. My third in total. I'll have six weeks of language instruction in Khmer while staying with a host family. So naturally, with all of these numbers, I'll never completely be out of my high school math element. But first, a twenty-one hour flight to get me there. 

Numbers aside, I'm very excited to return, and I'll be certain to keep you all updated! 

I have a question for all of you music lovers out there: Identify the indie artist and song that has "Each new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." I've been singing it in my head the entire drive, but I just can't seem to place it.