The Pixie Dust Chronicle: Waiting for the rain to stop: my newest hobby (with photos)

The first day of the workshop went decently well, considering that there are over twenty students, and however much my translator assures me that they are all over fifteen, and some even claim to be as old as I am, I would not have put them more than sixteen, maximum. I saw how young they were and was immediately concerned, but decided to challenge them anyway and just assume they'll rise to it.

They did, for the most part, and -- well, what else can you expect, for the first day of doing very strange things that are supposedly dance and feel just kind of like games? I got them to stop playing around, happily, but the exercises are such that my translator, one of the club's supervisors, sort of laughs when he's explaining, like I-have-no-idea-why-the-heck-she-wants-to-do-this-but-okay. But by the end of the day, I think maybe he started to see method in the madness and I think they'll get to it.

After, I went back to the room, but was restless and decided to go for a work and check out the scene. I decided I wanted to go to the Night Market, but took a circuitous route, wandering by the river and the old market, then back and forth around the Pub streets (yes, they are called that) before heading to the Night Market, fending off all the Khmer people determined that I should get a massage.

The market was just opening and I was one of the few people there, but it was nice that way, and I found my way to the center, with the Island bar, a bit straw hut. The Night Market in Phnom Penh is much louder and many more people, though maybe I was just early enough, but I found it really peaceful. I found the food court, as it were, and checked out all the menus, took a wander to think and dissuaded a vendor determined to sell me chopsticks -- in her defense, they were beautiful.

I went back and ordered fresh spring rolls and french fries, not the healthiest meal I suppose, but it was very good. It started to rain halfway through, and the Island bar workers came to see if I might want a draft beer for a buck, and so I caved. By the end of the first, the rain was showing no signs of stopping, so I got a second and an ice cream, and settled in for the long run.

It was very beautiful, and very peaceful -- early on a rainy monday night, I expect it isn't like that all the time. In any case, it stopped close to eight, some half hour/hour later, and I headed home. It's starting again now, and will probably keep doing this for the rest of the next month and a half.

So far, I really like the city, after having my little flip out last night and this morning. I think maybe the locals are more used to seeing barangs here. In Phnom Penh it's not unusual for people to turn around to gawk from the back of the moto, which is actually quite disconcerting. But this afternoon, I was pedaling along on my shitty borrowed bike -- it's only speed can be best described as "toodling" -- along this big wide road, and nobody stared or gawked or turned their heads to watch me going by. Just another barang on a bike, we've got lots of those.

I don't like how on pub street it's back to same old story -- barangs, and tuktuk drivers jockeying for attention, people trying to sell you something at every turn; essentially, everything for the tourists. But just outside, it's really nice, almost calm.

I admit, toodling down that wide road with all the shops on the side, I was thinking how sometimes in the French countryside I used to think I could be anywhere, but I know now that's not true. Big highway with shops and overhead signs for the route or not, I could not have possibly confused myself into thinking I was just anywhere.

I also remember thinking, sometimes my life really is cool.

Here are a few photos from the day: