Back in Sihanoukville… After two days in a guesthouse on Occheuteal Beach, I moved to a one room apartment in a quiet street. It's a great place with luxury items such as a TV and a hot shower.
Only after I had paid for a month upfront, I discovered a few empty condom wraps and a usb-stick with 4 gig of Japanese porn under the bed. OK, that got me motivated to go buy a broom and cleaning products. The whole first day I spend cleaning and scrubbing all by myself. It felt damn good. I can take care of myself. This is better than that pointless photo-safari of the last few weeks. Cleaning never felt so liberating... It was late afternoon when everything looked spotless and fresh. I lit my first cigarette of the day and listened to an early Springsteen album. Oh yeah, this is my place now!
From my second-floor room I look out over tropical vegetation and the sea in the distance. The landlord is a friendly gamble-happy drunk, children shout "Hello" every time I enter the gate and the neighbors are a typical mix of Sihanoukville characters. (Well, the rent is $100/month so that should keep the worst lowlifes out) So far I've met a middle-aged English man who lives with a Khmer girl, a lady-boy, a tough looking white dude, 2 local girls who work in a nearby karaoke parlor and a gay couple. Right across the street they serve great Khmer meals for a dollar. I'm close enough to the beach to walk there in daytime but just far enough to discourage myself to get out for 'just one beer' late at night. There's a solid lock on my door and the whole building is surrounded by big walls and an iron gate. I think I'll love it here.
The best part is that I did it all by myself. I'm not moving in with some girl. I'm not following directions out of a guide book. This is my place, my choice. I've always wanted to live near the sea. I've always wanted to be free and independent. This is it, my own place in the sun…
This time I want to do things right. Not smoking dope, not drinking too much and making damn sure not to get romantically involved with a local girl. That was sort of the plan from the beginning. India was nothing but a cover. There was no way I could tell the good folks back home that I was returning to Sihanoukville without looking like a junk or a pervert. Maybe I started to believe my own cover story too much in the end.
Anyway, I'm back and I'm doing well. I just had an internet connection installed. All settled, now I've got more than 11 months to figure out a scheme to stay afloat in this town…
No comments:
Post a Comment