A windy night caused the power to go out in the wee hours of the morning followed by heavy rain in the early morning hours. Fortunately for us by the time we left for our cooking class, the rain had passed. The temps are going up and the humidity is thick and I’d like to say I’m getting used to it but I’m not. I’m just always hot and sweaty.
This morning we were informed as guests at the Winter Guesthouse our tuk-tuk to town is free. We’re off to our cooking class at the Temple Restaurant. We are the only ones taking the class. Perfect, we will learn so much. We start with making kroeung (Cambodian spice paste). We sliced, diced, and peeled all the ingredients to make; Mango Salad, Khmer Amok, Fried Spring Rolls, Khmer Curry, a Green Bean Dessert, and Banana Dessert. After two hours of cooking, we enjoy our labor of love. Some of the food was too spicy for me but we enjoyed the experience and results. I’ll be taking home these dicing, slicing tips along with a few recipes.
After a memorable and delightful morning, we left filled and fulfilled from a wonderful cooking experience in Siem Reap. Fortunately, the internet café was up and running so I was able to send off some chatty e-mails. Our next stop was to walk through the market and go to the local pharmacy. I can feel a cold coming on with a slight sore throat and now a runny nose. I don’t usually use “drugs” but when I’m traveling, I resort to Sudafed and cough drops. We’re just two miles from our guesthouse so we decided to walk. There are some very sad sights and situations in the city. Many people begging for money, moms with babies “sleeping” in their arms, older people that are crippled, or with amputated legs sitting on the sidewalks. It’s hard to know when to give money or not. There is constant tuk-tuk drives calling to you to take a ride, restaurant personnel calling out to you to eat at their establishment, or “Come, come to my fish massage”. A fish massage is a two-foot deep glass pool filled with hundreds of tiny fish, just waiting for you to sit on the edge of the pool and put your feet in the water so they can munch off the dead skin from your legs and feet. The further we walk from the city the quieter it becomes and with the river by us and lush trees and vegetation, it becomes relaxing and peaceful.
Our cement sidewalks turn to gravel and then mud. The few storefronts and houses change into houses on stilts and no storefronts. I saw some people sowing on treadle sewing machines. These houses don’t have walls and we are walking now in a very poor section of town. As much as I don’t want to stare and I hope my jaw wasn’t hanging open but the direction we are going is changing quickly. The road becomes more and more narrow. Naked children are playing in mud puddles, smiling, and splashing. We will definitely not get a tuk-tuk here in fact, the only vehicle that can drive on this road would be a motorcycle. People are watching us and we are so lost. It’s starting to get dark. We stop, have a serious conversation with Andy, and start back. Start back? I have no idea how to get back but thank you, God, Andy does and leads us out. I have to say, I’m upset that it took us so long to turn around but what I learned from my son, is calm down. Being upset doesn’t help, (so true) make the most of it, cheer up, we’re going to be okay. I believed that when I was walking on asphalt again.
I didn’t take pictures in that very poor part of town. It just didn’t seem right. The smiling children that were afraid of us, the laundry drying on the fences, the poor living conditions, the sound of the treadle sewing machines working hard, the shock on the people’s faces of seeing us and the staring, the mud trench filled with water rushing through it ready to break the walls and flood homes, will be in my memory. And when I don’t remember anymore, I can read this entry.
