November 21

This Sunday morning I woke and brunched in preparation for another day out exploring Phnom Penh in its Water Festival glory before trekking out to Takeo to Wat Opot. I've become accustomed to seeing the various kinds of beggars in Phnom Penh and the goods or services that one can show off to westerners for a few riel. This morning at brunch, a blind man came to the entryway of the restaurant led by a small boy. He stopped right at the entry and pulled out a small flute and began playing. The restaurant was scarcely occupied, we were one of two other groups there. About 2 minutes into the man's song, the waitress walked over and handed the man a note, I couldn't see how much. The man stopped mid-note and quickly put the money in his pocket. Shortly after, the Italian tourist group behind us sent one of its patrons to make an offering to the man and he also scurried to put the note in his pocket. After this, he put his flute back in its container and walked away with the boy. I hadn't given any contribution, and realized it was funny he had not finished his song just yet but took his money and walked away.

The afternoon of boutique shopping was less congested than yesterday's hunt at the mall, but I was still disappointed at the lack of sizes in many of the shops. It seemed that even if I found anything cheap from H&M it may not even fit. I didn't give up hope, since many of the boutiques were closed for the Water Festival. We'd heard of a huge market and festival near the waterfront near the casinos. This area is notorious since only several years ago it was the site of one of Phnom Penh's biggest slum areas. The land was bulldozed and thousands of people were evacuated and relocated to other areas. Now the land is being commercially developed and is the site of festivals, conventions and other commerce that would encourage tourism to the casino and waterfront area. Seeing this land one could not imagine it one was a slum. Stalls for international brands like Revlon, L'Oreal, Pepsi Cola and others ran promotional events and gave free samples. Some stalls had games and contests for people. All of the major beers of southeast Asia, Angkor, Lao, Singha, Leo, Angkor were there selling beers at a fraction of the retail price and giving out free merchandise. Some cigarette companies also had stalls, with Khmer women dolled up in skimpy costumes giving out free cigarettes.

After sampling beers and grabbing free hats, we crossed a pedestrian bridge to an island of sorts where more markets and a carnival were taking place. Below were children playing in the river, taking naked dives and swimming through reeds as if oblivious to the thousands of people that could see them. There was a ferris wheel set up, and I was a little disappointed it had not been working. Nonetheless, there was a small roller coaster going and I was so eager to hop on. Its not uncommon for people to try to skip in line (theres never a queue in a public restroom, in a shop, fast food, etc.) but it was comical to see the huge crowd of people at the entrance of the roller coaster, all too afraid to go up and board. When the next group could get on the coaster, everyone refused and we simply jumped on. It was $2! I was a bit surprised, and did not feel like I got my money's worth. Riding in a dinosaur in circles just getting whiplash when I've already had too many beers is not an experience to write home about. After the dizzying kiddie ride, we walked some more and discovered a complex of buildings, all designed exactly the same from the exterior. The buildings looked like a  shopping center, except there was no place for retail signage at the entrances. Each had a letter from A to Z and all looked unoccupied. We assumed they were unfinished office complexes or perhaps had some affiliation with the casinos across the small bridge.

Seeing nothing else to do on this island, we walked back over the bridge to the Phnom Penh side of things. We were bored and tired of walking in the hot sun just drinking beers and looking at things we would not buy, so we decided to go into Phnom Penh's most posh casino, NagaWorld. Despite a name that likens the latest Japanese cartoon craze, Nagaworld is a mega hotel casino complex that must have about 50 stories. Inside its lobby is an enormous koi pond, chandeliers and as we entered noticed about a 20 foot Christmas tree being decorated by casino employees with giant glass ornaments and garland. It also has a reputation for excluding Khmer people. The casino is not Cambodian owned, and a lot of the signs throughout were in English, Chinese, Korean or Vietnamese. The other volunteer traveling with me is of Chinese descent and commented on seeing very many Chinese people in the casino, hearing a lot of the gamblers speaking Chinese.

As a 20 year old, visibly not legal and walking into a casino in a tank blouse wearing fake Ray bans and holding a 40 cent can of Sing-ha beer, I was clearly not in a position to gamble nor give any business to Nagaworld. However I was never stopped or asked any questions, because westerners are always welcome. I knew my getup was ridiculous, but I pretended to have some intention of gambling so I played $1 in slots and came up dry. Oh well. My other traveler won about $2 and courageously asked for her earnings. One of the short skirted attendants came over and forked over under $1.50 in riel. When we inquired why we were short changed, we were told the exchange rate is 3,000 riel to the dollar, instead of the standard 4,000. Factor in some casino tricky work and you get short changed. Interestingly, the language barrier was pretty thin and two women who speak English got lost in translation. The explanation came in Mandarin, which it seems everyone speaks here.

After losing $1 and drinking too much cheap beer, it was time for dinner. The crowds had intensely accumulated and walking to the restaurants was almost unbearable. However, we found a tourist place serving Khmer dishes and settled there. Afterwards, outside of the restaurant was a woman selling cockroaches, crickets, larvae, snake, spider, and broiled chicks from a cart. We walked to a tourist trap of a bar and lounge, the FCC. Originally a post for journalists to hang out and drink its now a posh hangout for expats and tourists. Around the time we arrived, the fireworks had begun and people sat taking photos on the lounge of the boats below. An hour later, two drinks down each, evading one creepy expat hitting on us we still had not gotten the bill. Perhaps it was one too many bad Asian beers, that spin on the kiddie coaster or a subpar bowl of noodles but we shamelessly stood up and walked out of the bar without incident.

I'd hoped our dine and dash wasn't bringing us bad karma in a land where everyone is Buddhist. As we headed home on Sihanouk, one of the large boulevards in Phnom Penh en route to the apartment we hit a dead end. An enormous crowd of people, maybe about 2,000 had been congested at the intersection. On top of which, all of the motos and tuk tuks which had tipped the police earlier were now leaving the riverfront. In a massive crowd of thousands of people, motos and tuk tuks were increasingly squeezed together in this tight space. At first, I thought as in New York the crowd would disperse as people began to orderly file into different directions. However, as the crowd pushed and pushed more I saw overhead those in front of me. There was no traffic accident, it was simply an incredible amount of congestion caused by the thousands of people that were leaving this venue. Standing in the same place for about 20 minutes, the bodies pushed on top of mine felt like an inferno. I was panicking, I knew a few more pushes could get very dangerous. As a few motos tried to weave in front of me and the millimeters between the person in front of me, I feared burning my legs with it's exhaust pipe. The most troublesome was hearing a few shrieks of panic and seeing a man carry a small girl whose body seemed lifeless above the crowd as everyone moved aside to make room. I turned around to watch where the child was being taken to, and what I saw gave my body chills. A group of men were carrying a body bag above their heads back down Sihanouk. Immediately, I knew we had to leave. There were only a few people behind us, and we made our way out trying to find an alternate route to the apartment. It didn't matter where we went, the entire city was roadblocked. It was a scary and unforgettable situation, the thousands of people that were all around us. Motos were trying to pass in front of people, cutting of groups and mothers and children. It was complete chaos and I hoped I would get back to the apartment without injury. What should have been about a 20 minute walk took more than an hour to get home. It's incredible how crowded the festival was, it really proved why there were not more tourists there. I was so thankful I was able to get home without incident. Once again, its seems 50 cent spirit has made me nimble and evade a troublesome situation! That was a joke, mom.