Rain, Elections & Travel Plans

It's raining.
More accurately; it's raining again.
Well, it has been raining almost all week. But I still don't mind that much. I play a lot of online poker and watch a lot of Mad Men. Easy life. But the best thing about the rainy season is Occheuteal Beach. 3.5 km of wide-open space, nothing but sand and sea, strong wind, big waves and almost no one around. Running on this empty beach is an absolute bliss.

Election weekend is here. There's a lot of military in town and, more importantly, there's a 48 hours booze-ban in effect. Of course, I took precautions days ago (a bottle of Jack) and don't go out drinking in this weather anyway. That's really all there is to say about these local elections by a barang like me.

(Third World) elections.
Everybody knows how it goes.

(For some quick insight in Cambodian politics; The New York Times ran an excellent piece a few days ago: '10.000 Days of Hun Sen')

Tomorrow, when the Cambodians go to vote, I'm leaving the country for (at least) a few days. No worries, I trained a team of monkeys and put them in an abandoned shack on Victory Hill. They work 24/7 to deliver a new issue of The Sihanoukville Gazette every single day. Even during my absence this should continue uninterrupted. In case anything goes wrong I'll be eating monkey soup on my return. That should keep those banana-eating bastards motivated.

Anyway, I'm shit scared. In fact, I would prefer to just stay in Sihanoukville. Especially after my fail-trip to India; I'm not all that eager to travel all alone to unknown places. Alas, I believe sometimes a man has to do whatever scares him the most. Otherwise we're all just getting old and fat and weak. So I tossed my toothbrush, some clothes and a few books in a small backpack. Tomorrow morning I'm on a bus to the border...

Check out my Twitter to follow the trail into Vietnam.

Books, Whiskey and a Wild Night Out (42 Hours in Phnom Penh)

Eight years ago it took 3,5 hours to get from Sihanoukville to Phnom Penh by bus. Nowadays it's 3 hours to the outskirts of town and then another 2 hours of crawling through Phnom Penh traffic. I'm tired and thirsty by the time the bus finally stops. As soon as I'm out on the street, tuk-tuk drivers besiege me from all sides with a wide range of offers (transport, accommodation, drugs, sex…). I haven't been to a real city since Bangkok in mid-February. The noise, the smell, the crowds and all these people trying to sell me something... It's hard to deal with now. Finding a hotel room in this busy, sticky city drains any power I've got left. After dinner, I return to my hotel room and go to sleep early. Phnom Penh's too big for me.

The next morning I still feel not quiet ready to get out. But I drag myself to the Central Market nevertheless. Ten minutes later I'm the proud owner of 2 new, very reasonably priced, t-shirts. Cambodians believe that a sale early in the morning will bring good luck and good business. There's hardly any bargaining necessary. They are happy to sell something as early as possible. I like to get my shopping done as quickly as possible. Everybody wins, everybody's happy. The Central Market is good place to be at 8 in the morning (before everyone else gets there). Then I head to Bohr's Bookshop. It's one of my favorite places; a small shop in the shadow of the Royal Palace stuffed with copied and second-hand books. It's a thrill seeing all fresh and different books. Q&A in Sihanoukville is an alright book-store but it lacks new titles. Here in Bohr's there's a solid collection of new (copied) books. After taking my time looking around, I end up spending $20 on five books. Afterwards I go for breakfast on the riverside. It's still only 10 am. What to do now? I'm thinking about taking the 12 o'clock bus back to Sihanoukville when I get a phone call from a friend. Do I want to party tonight? Yes, sure and thank you for calling. I walk around the riverside a little bit more and then I retreat to my hotel room with some fine quality herbs. Phnom Penh's is not that bad.

At night I meet up with a couple of girls from Sihanoukville. We eat grilled chicken at a local market for dinner. Then we go for cocktails on the riverside and on to Pontoon, the hippest nightclub in town. Normally I'm not the kind of dude who frequent nightclubs. Especially not hip night clubs. But these girls have money in their pockets (for once) and, in true Khmer-style, can't relax until they burned through it all. So to Pontoon we go. We order a bottle of Jim Bean and sit at a private table just next to the dance floor. Oh yeah, drinking whiskey with beautiful girls in a Phnom Penh nightclub. My mom would be so proud. Well, at least, I do feel like a pretty cool dude right now. Later a few friends of friends join us. Another bottle of Jim Bean appears on the table and another and… In short, it's a great, wild night out. Lots of dancing and laughing and acting like a fool. It's all good fun. Of course, large amounts of whiskey always lead to some kind of trouble. Some glasses get smashed on the floor. A couple starts getting funky on the couch until a passed-out girl suddenly wakes up and pukes all over them (lots of lols by me). It's getting late and I'm thinking about sneaking out. Just when I get on my feet someone asks me to help take puking girl outside. We carry her across the dance floor, out on the street and into a tuk-tuk... She manages to puke all over my shirt in the process (lots of lols but none mine). Anyway, it was a great night out. Some things never change. Phnom Penh's an awesome city.

The next morning I take the bus back to Sihanoukville. It was a good trip but now I'm excited to return to my quiet, little room by the sea.
Cambodia; life's good here for me.

The Sihanoukville Gazette

A daily online paper dedicated to my favorite beach town...

100 Days On A Beach

Last night I jumped out of bed at 3 am; woken up by a giant, roaring thunderstorm. It has been raining heavily ever since. The streets are muddy at best, whitewater rivers in many parts of town. The beaches are deserted. Tonight JJ's Playground, one of my favorite late night beach-front drinking spots, has one last party before it closes down indefinitely…

It's official;
the rainy season's in town.
I don't care all that much.

Today it's exactly 100 days since I left Belgium.
Rain or sunshine, as long as I'm east of Islamabad, it's all good.

Days go by while I read, run, crush poker, linger on beaches, drive my moto, drink, party and smoke the good stuff… I'm a lucky one to live like this. Or, maybe, I just don't feel like I've got anything to loose. It's all good.

When it rains I play poker. When it rains some more I watch episodes of Mad Men or mess around with the latest social media. Like all hipsters you can now find me on Pinterest, the Facebook for illiterates, and I started publishing a daily online paper The Sihanoukville Gazette. Lastly, I'm not quiet sure what happened but since Khmer New Year my Twitter sort of exploded. Just ask any of my 13K followers...

Anyway, I'm doing fine.

100 Days on a beach
You really should try it one day

Postcard from Sihanoukville

Every night the dreams are the same. I'm running or driving but always panicking. Eventually I fall into a dark void. While thumbling down into nothingness I realize this must be nothing but a dream. Relieved I open my eyes. Now I'm in bed in Brussels. Grey European light creeps through closed curtains. I get out of bed and walk around the big, quiet apartment. Somehow I came back but I don't understand how or why. There must be some kind of mistake. I don't belong here. My head spins. I try to scream but there's no sound. Blind, wild fear has got me by the balls. My soul gets crushed under the weight of another twenty years of European boredom. I can't do this. This must be another nightmare, right? Suddenly I open my eyes and I'm wide awake. For real this time. I feel the heat, the familiar sounds of a spinning fan and howling dogs, the stickiness of my skin. Relieved, I take a deep breath. It's just a bad dream.

On the last day of Khmer New Year I went to the temple to burn incense and pray for good luck. Although I'm not a religious man, I've got a deep interest in Buddhism and I enjoy the peaceful, happy vibe in Buddhist temples. Incense, bananas, smiling monks and colorful Buddha statues; it's always a happy time. I like it here. All my Christian guilt is slowly dissolving into thin air. I'm almost free.

A few days ago almost 1000 US Navy personnel from the USS Blue Ridge got shore leave here in Sihanoukville. It's funny how every single cliché about US soldiers on R&R turns out to be true. They roamed the beaches, bars and casinos like wild, horny dogs. I heard buses full of Phnom Penh working girls sped down on Highway 4 to get a piece of the pie. Clueless about the dollar-value in this place the US Army made countless business-owners, tuk-tuk-drivers and street sellers incredible happy. The professional girlfriends had the time of there life. It was so damn busy that after the first night I just stayed home. Nevertheless, happy nights for the local economy. Thank you USA and please come again! Anyway, with the USS Blue Ridge back out on the sea, Sihanoukville is quiet as ever. Hot days are followed by the first burst of rain. The barang retirees are planning visits to family back home, business owners who can afford it close down for a few months. Those who stay are waiting for the rains.

It has been three months since I left Brussels. To celebrate I bought a bottle of Jack Daniels, an extra-large coolbox and a set of two chairs and a table. Then I spend all day cleaning and asked the landlord about discounts for long-term tenants. Staying away is far more important than traveling to new places. Besides, everything I want or need is right here. Of course, life's a constant struggle with my limitations and my tendencies (just like it would be anywhere else in the world). But, unlike anywhere else, a lot of the time I feel really happy here.
Confident,
at ease,
at home...

Until next time;
Greetings from Sihanoukville!

Enter The Dragon

Yesterday, at 19h12 local time, the rabbit left and the dragon entered. It's Khmer New Year. This is 2256, the Year of the Dragon. The back streets of Sihanoukville are deserted. Almost all shops and food stalls are closed. The building where I live is nearly empty. Most of the Sihanoukville Khmer are out in the provinces to celebrate with their families. Only the rich from Phnom Penh come to spend the New Year holiday on the beach. The main street is packed with fancy cars and the beaches are full with drunk city people. There's a weird vibe in town. SUV's speed down Ekareach Street but take one side turn and there are only roaming dogs and dust to be found.

The last weeks of the Year of the Rabbit I tried to enjoy the now instead of always worrying about the future. At times I envy my Khmer friends who seem to live so effortlessly today without a clue how to pay next month's rent. Me, I have another 10 months of holiday ahead but somehow I manage to get all stressed and anxious about it. Am I making the most of my time? Should I be somewhere else? Am I doing this right? What do I do when the trip is over? …and a million other questions to keep me completely oblivious of life right now. So I actually looked at the palm trees, smelled the sea and tried to live more intensely. It worked for some time but, alas, we all have our tendencies. More than anything this Only Now-crap turned into an excuse to stay out on the beach way too long for too many nights…
So I just keep going around in circles. Done with the now (aka the night life) I made a glorious return to the pokers. In three days I tripled my meager PokerStars-bankroll. Although I should know better, I felt like the king of the world. Crushing poker, making money and living in a beach town: happy times. Of course, on the fourth day I gave back almost all of my winnings and got soul-crushed in the process. I refused all invitations to go to New Year parties in far away villages and watched a dozen lousy movies on my laptop. That's were the Year of the Rabbit ended.

Here we are now. The Year of the Dragon, Day 1. Clueless, as usual. Not partying, not playing poker. No friends anymore either (drunk nights can do that). Two months into this trip, all alone in Sihanoukville. I got a nice room and a fancy moto. No complaints. There are worse places to be (at 6am on the day job, for example). I'll figure things out from here. There's another month left before the rainy season. I might stay, I might leave. At least I make my own choices here.

Dead to the rabbit; long live the dragon!

Life of Ease

...enough said