So we are still on the In Country Training in Kampong Cham and wishing it would end so we can get on with actually doing something constructive. The Khmer lessons continue every morning although the level of proficiency does not seem to be increasing accordingly. We now know useful things like that the word for pink “por pka chhook” is the same as that for lotus flower and shower head. The word for tri-mester is the same as gold fish! The potential for making some very big blunders with the language is huge but as yet we have not got further than “2 bottles of beer and a plate of chips please.”

Last week was one of the many, many religious holidays. This one was in honour of the ancestors, an extended “day of the dead” when everyone returns to their family village – a bit like Christmas without the Queen on the tele. The tradition is to visit the pagoda (wat) and make offerings of food or money to the monks. About 95% of the population is Buddhist and the golden roofs of the Wats dominate the landscape. Many of them are quite spectacular considering that most were damaged or destroyed during the Pol Pot era. The shaven headed, saffron robed monks are deeply respected although its difficult to show deep reverence to a very attractive young man hammering along on the back of a moto, smoking a ciggie and chatting on his mobile phone.

A surreal Cambodian moment occurred during a visit to a local Wat. A very frail and elderly monk is lying sleeping on the floor while a large monkey was gently and lovingly grooming him. When Maraid stepped forward to take their photo the monkey went ape(?) lunging at her and screaming with bared teeth. Perhaps the reaction to this insensitive intrusion into an intimate ritual was justified but it also rather disturbingly resembled a moment from “The Omen”.

Taking advantage of the holiday we went on a little trip to Krattie to see the famous, freshwater, Irrawaddy dolphins. We took a long tailed boat out on to the river and the dolphins obliged us by putting on a show. We tracked them for an hour or so until the magic was complete when they broke the surface against the backdrop of a beautiful Mekong sunset.

There was a little bit of drama on Sunday when some of us went out for a bicycle trip into the

country to visit The Man Mountain and The Woman Mountain. As Jean is a cycle phobic Jon took her as a pillion passenger on one of the motos. As we pootled down a country lane three lads on a moto cruised past and lifted 800 quids worth of camera out of his front basket. Outraged, Jon chucked Jean off the back and set off in hot pursuit of the little buggers. The rest of us puffed and pedalled along behind occasionally coming across huddles of excited villagers who pointed and said “they went that’a’way”. In high dudgeon Jon chased them down the muddy lanes for about 20 minutes yelling Anglo-Saxon abuse and threatening castration when he caught them (whether they understood all of this clearly is in question). Eventually, having the advantage of one against three on the bikes, he started to gain on them. Faced by the prospect of a big, bearded, roaring red-faced Barrang (Khmer for foreigner) they ditched the camera. As he victoriously drove back through the villages triumphantly waving the camera he was greeted by clapping and cheers. This heroic exploit has gone down in the annals of VSO legend but it is also universally denounced as a very, very, very stupid thing to do. However Jon is now quite confident of his ability to ride across the muddy wasteland that is the Cambodian road system.

Travelling through Cambodia you become aware that it is a place of huge inconsistencies and contrasts. The countryside is so beautiful, verdant and fertile producing wonderful images like a huge black water buffalo wandering through the paddy fields with a tiny child sitting cross-legged on its back. The towns’ streets, however, are lined with mud and rubbish. Some families live in little more than grass shacks, which they share with their livestock while their more privileged neighbours have acquired massive gated and guarded palaces. Despite the wealth suggested by the huge Landcruisers and majestic housing the poverty of some was brought home to us one evening in Battambang. Having eaten our fill in a pavement restaurant we were humbled when a small boy asked us to fill his plastic bag with our leftover rice so he could feed his family. We are under no illusions that we can solve the problems created by

over 30 years of genocide, war and corruption but increasingly we see the need for us to do our tiny bit.

Hello from Cambodia 4

So we have been in Cambodia for a month now and we are no closer to understanding this country and its people .In fact the longer we stay here the more confusing it becomes.

On the culinary front It seems that if it moves or grows you can eat it .We have now sampled curried frog, stewed eel and Jon has eaten a spiders leg, although he drew the line at munching into its body.Generally we are eating very well although the dominance of rice to the diet is reflected in the language, e.g. a restaurant is hang bai meaning a rice shop, A dinning room is bantop gnam bai, the room where you eat rice, and breakfast is gnam bai preuk, to eat rice in the morning. As you travel about the country , which we have being doing a lot recently, the vivid green of the rice paddy fields dominates the landscape. We were invited to lunch with the British ambassador at the residency which was extremely pleasant especially as the menu did not include rice, (or Ferrero Roche).

Our In Country Training has continued in PP.This has mainly involved the admin part of the job. The VSO project we are working on is funded by the World Bank and the EU but because corruption is rife here at all levels every dollar/ euro has to be accounted for.This requires a huge amount of form filling and report writing. I thought we had left the education system to get away from all that.

Last Sunday we at last left PP to visit our placements. The intrepid little family who are going to be based in Battambang Province are Jean (Mummy), Ally (baby), Onno (Dutch Uncle) and us 2 , the embarrassing country cousins. Onno, who is based in a district about 100 km away will be our nearest neighbour. It takes about 6 hours by bus to get from PP to Battambang town, which will become our haven for R and R and peanut butter. From there we travelled with Vantha, the boss of VSO Education, on to our placement in a 4x4 truck with no suspension in the back seats .As the most direct route is impassable at the moment the first part of the journey was on the main highway which links Siem Riep to the Thai border at Poipet. Considering this is the main tourist route into the country the road was truly appalling. As we were shaken from Pothole to pot hole the inertia in the seat belts ratcheted back until we pinned unable to move or breathe against the back seats.

And then we turned onto the dirt roads........... and in fact they were not too bad by comparison, if you avoid the wandering cows , dogs, chickens and children all of whom seem to have suicidal tendencies. Overall it took about 5 and a half hours from BB town, but it should be faster in the dry season.

So what about Phnom Preuk, our home for the next 2 years?
The area is very unlike any other we have seen in Cambodia so far, it has mountains. It reminds us a bit of the Puys of the Massif Central in France - well a little bit- or the valleys of the Alps. I found myself thinking "" I wonder what it is like here when it snows? Duh!!! It is however very beautiful scenery.

The town itself is like something out of a Western movie. A frontier town with a main street which is either dust or mud depending on the season. "The theme tune to "the Good , the Bad and the Ugly kept running through my head. Also it appears to be far more Western than other areas with less people wearing the traditional costumes and more tractors. The influence of Thailand.

Vantha was on a mission to find us a nice house. He was working on the principle that being as we were based in the back of beyond unless we were happy where we lived we wouldn't last 2 days let alone 2 years. We traipsed from site to site which varied from the top floor of a palace owned by the local army chief to a delapidated beach hut that overlooked the local rubbish tip. Running out of options, Vantha resorted to knocking on the doors of likely looking houses and asking the owners if they would move out so we could move in. This tactic proved successful as we found our dream home.

It is a concrete house rather than the traditional wood built on sticks, based on the outskirts of town with beautiful views of the mountains and the Wat (pagoda). 2 bed., 2 bath / shower, 2 reception, study, kitchen , balcony and roof terrace for $250 per month. Vantha negotiated an amazing deal which included beautiful carved wooden furniture, a fridge, cable TV and a cleaner. This voluntary life is tough you know! The landlord and his family live next door and they have a teenage daughter who is learning English. They are our new best friends.

We also visited the local Education Office to meet our new boss and work mates. The office is open plan, in so far as it doesn't have a front wall, and it closely resembles a barn. While we were there a group of bedraggled NQT teachers arrived for a training session. They all looked about 14 and one had been travelling for 3 days to get there! They were staying overnight sleeping in a wooden shack behind the office. NQTs don't you ever, ever, ever complain again about how hard it is becoming a teacher.

While we were there we heard several very loud explosions in the near distance which no one else seemed to react to. Turns out the de-mining units were detonating their daily find!

So we are reserving our judgement on the placement, Every time we mentioned to the Khmer staff in the BB education office that we were going to Phnom Preuk there were little squeaks of amused surprise and a jolly "Good Luck"" as we left. What do they know???
So its back to Kampon Chan for another 3 weeks of language training, oh joy ,oh bliss, then off to start our new lives in the Wild West. SCAREY>