So during our first couple of days volunteering at Krou Yeung School in Phnom Penh, we were staying in a hotel, which presented a few problems. One of the first problems we encountered was the absence of a means to cook food — or, more immediately, to heat water for our morning ritual of having a cup of tea the first thing. We scouted the neighborhood, and while there were several coffee shops that looked quite enticing, none of them served black tea — only green.

In desperation, we went to the Starbucks down the street. (Yes, there was a Starbucks, as well as a Pizza Hut and a Coldstone Creamery; later, a 7-11 and a Dairy Queen would be added to the neighborhood landscape.) They didn’t have black tea, either; but they were at least willing to provide us with some hot water that we could use with our own tea bags. So we survived another day.

That night for dinner we had planned to have a salad that we bought at a store, but it turned out to be… not as edible as we’d hoped. So we decided to scour the neighborhood (with the aid of Google Maps) for a restaurant that offered vegetarian dishes. There was an excellent option not very far away: the Sacred Lotus, which was in the lobby of a hostel. Their food was quite yummy, and with generous servings at a price of around 4 dollars. (And as a bonus, there was a little shelf of books that hostelers had left behind.) It would become our go-to place to eat out, to which we returned at least once a week.

Moving in

Fortunately, our hotel stay was short-lived, and we soon moved into our very own apartment. It was just around the corner, and was managed by the same family who managed the hotel. Kompeak, the school’s ever-diligent general factotum, came to help us move in, and brought us some dishes, utensils and a fan from the school.

The apartment was on what is officially the third floor; but Cambodians don’t count the ground floor, so it was actually on the fourth by our reckoning. Anyway, it was a comfy little studio apartment with a big bed and hardwood furnishings in the living room/ bedroom, an air conditioner, a TV (which we never turned on), and a washing machine on the balcony — from which we had a pretty interesting view of street life. There was also a fully equipped kitchen, and a bathroom with — oh joy –hot water. (When we returned a year later to teach for a whole year, we’d spend most of that year living in this same apartment — after spending the first couple of months in an identical apartment one floor above it.)

At school, we checked in with our supervisor, a cheery young woman named Souvlin (“Lin”), and discussed how best to make use of our services during our half-days of volunteering. When she was showing us around, we became stuck in the elevator for about 10 minutes. At first, none of us could get a wi-fi signal to summon help, but finally she got through. She messaged maintenance and advised them of our situation. The reply was “wait”. As if we had other options.

Mostly, we worked with the kids on theatrical skits, a song and a dance, all in preparation for an upcoming performance at a ceremony for the end of the first quarter. But we also spent some time helping them with English skills. Meanwhile, we were making at least some effort to learn Khmer.

Russian Market

The neighborhood we lived in was near the celebrated marketplace called Russian Market (Psaa Tuol Tompoung in Khmer), which is not Russian at all, but thoroughly Cambodian. On the outside are stalls selling produce and various forms of animal flesh. On the inside is a huge maze of stalls vending shoes, clothes, motorbike parts, dishes — you name it. There are also tailors and other such services. It’s fascinating to wander through there (though it gets a bit hot) and gawk at the bustling hive of commerce and local life. But it’s easy to get lost.

WorkAway Teaching English at Krou Yeung

Back at school, we finally met the school’s founder and director, Mr. Yin Sopheap, with whom we’d been in contact only by phone. He really impresses us with his vision for improving his country through education. At one point he even suggested that Putin’s nasty character might have been prevented by the right kind of education. We’d like to believe he has a good point.

The school issued us our photo ID badges, and also loaned us a couple of bicycles, which were handy not only for commuting to and from work (about 10 minutes each way) but also getting around the city.

Dennis had been having difficulty with one of his eyes — a cataract — and was certain that surgery was in order. So we found a highly recommended eye doctor and went to see him for an examination. He did a thorough scan and confirmed the need for the operation. And while the price quoted was quite low compared to rates back in the U.S., we ultimately decided to wait and see if we could get the procedure covered by insurance back in the States — where we’d be returning in just a few months.

Meanwhile, we dropped off our passports at a travel agency to get our visas extended. The initial visa was for only one month, and we’d be staying two months in Phnom Penh and one month in Battambang before leaving the country. So we inquired about extending for even longer, but the agency told us that the only thing we could do was apply for a retirement visa, which would be 295 dollars for one year.

Doing the math, we decided it was better to just get a one-month extension (50 dollars), then cross the border into Thailand and return, obtaining a whole new visa (30 dollars) for the last month. So that’s what we did, though it turned out to be a bit more complicated and costly than we planned.

Okay, finally, we were getting ready to have a home-cooked dinner in our new apartment. But when we tried to light the stove, we discovered that it was… out of gas. Stoves in Cambodia, as in many other countries, use canisters of gas, about 10 gallons each, that are swapped out when empty — and delivered on the back of a motorbike. Since we wouldn’t be able to get gas until the next day, we had yet another night of eating out. And THEN, maybe things would be more or less normal.

11/27 – 12/2/2022