Temperature: 28 Degrees Celsius
Track of the day: "The Cave," Mumford and Sons
"Is that Phanit,?" I ask as a young Khmer man approached our table exuberantly as we are finishing our morning breakfast at the hotel. Mom and Dad jump t
o their feet to greet an old friend (the brother of their tuk-tuk driver from a few years ago) who has come to take us around the city. We do a quick meet and greet and rush back to our room to collect our things for the day. 'What are we going to do about the tuk-tuk drivers waiting for us outside that we promised to give our business too," I ask worried about leaving them in the lurch. "Why don't we give each driver $20US for lost wages and explain the situation." We do just that and the humble drivers are more than happy as this mere $20 is sometimes more than a weeks wage for them. We also agree to have them pick us up for dinner around 6PM tonight. Hopping into Phanit and his friends tuk-tuk the five of us head out to the city. Stop number one is a story u
nto itself. For some bizarre reason Dad wanted to go to the local dump which is supposedly something of a smokey mountain (where people live) and somehow we are now standing in the middle of a landfill. There is nothing here but garbage, stinky, dirty garbage and thankfully a number of NGO's have already come here to help the children who once lived here get educated and fed. After enough wandering Dad apologizes for the complete waste of time while the rest of us smugly remind him that we 'told you so'. We continue on to the Russian Market, a place Alecs and I did not visit last time we were here. Unlike any market we have been to yet, this one is unique, eclectic and brilliant! Winding crooked streets, stalls spilling into the aisles, a mass maze of textiles, DVD's, trinkets, t-shirts, souvenirs, flowers, fruit and there seems to be no end in sigh
t. Alecs and I come to an opening back on the street where teems of tuk-tuks stream past us as motorbikes zoom by. "We made it out," Alecs says, breathing in. "Ya but we haven't gone the other direction," I say pointing down the street. We enter back in the winding world and return once again, our hands filled with bags. Clambering back into the tuk-tuk's, we head to Central Market, a much larger place than the last where we finish up our shopping fix. We quickly drop our goods off at the hotel and head out for lunch at a fantastic little restaurant called Friends. Back in March Alecs and I used our Lonely Planet guide to Cambodia as something of a bible and this restaurant was recommended in the 'dining for a cause' section of the Phnom Penh chapter. Friends is an NGO aimed at giving street kids a fighting chance and th restaurant trains them in the hospitality i
ndustry and helps them become employable. The staff all wear t-shirts indicating whether they are teachers or students, and the food is absolutely fantastic. A team of smiling Cambodian'
s greet us at the door and guide us out to the patio. We ask both Phanit and his friend to join us but only Phanit comes as the other driver has already eaten. Sitting together at the heavy wooden table under the warm blue sky as children play in the school yard beside us has everyone more than relaxed. We use this as an opportunity to learn more about Mom and Dad's friend Phanit and his family, who we will visit tomorrow. Phanit's family lives about a 45 minute Tuk-tuk drive outside of Phnom Penh in a rural village where rice farming is their main source if income. Our meals are delivered I excitedly dig into the hummus on won ton wrappers and Greek salad which is just as good as I re
member. It seems Alecs and I chose wisely as everyone is just as much in love with this place as we are. "So where to next?" Phanit asks as we clambour back into the tuk-tuks. We head to Wat Phnom, one of the most important pagodas in Phnom Penh built in 1373. We climb up the hill to the top where both the pagoda and a Buddhist temple sit. "Puppies," I shout to Alecs spotting two adorable balls of fur waddling around the temple chewing on random pieces of furniture and tumbling around each other. I race over to pick them both up while Mom, Dad and Sam pay to release a bird from a bamboo cage. After wandering around the pagoda we head down the backside of the hill where a number of monkeys sit on various pieces of the temple. We buy some bananas and a local bean-like vegetable which the monkeys love. "Anyone want a drink?" Dad asks as he approaches a small vendor on the side of the road. We unanimously nod our heads as Dad orders a few pop's, waters and juices when sudd
enly before money is exchanged the vendor scurries around her cart and drives off. She apologizes in broken English as we all stand a little perplexed but mostly amused as every vendor around us does the same. Moments later they all scuttle back to their locations and continue serving their customers, including us. "The police," the woman says, "if they see me selling here they get me," she says placing her hands behind her back as if they were handcuffed. We all grin at one another still amused at how everything operates over here, and loving it all the same. Before long we are walking towards the Royal Palace, a complex of buildings which are the royal abode of the King of Cambodia, Norodom Sihamouni, the son of former Prince Norodom Sihanouk. On March 18, 1970 while the P
rince Sihanouk was out of the country travelling, Prime Minister Lon Nol convented the National Assembly which voted to dispose Sihanouk as head of state giving Lon Nol emergency power. After being deposed Sihanouk moved to Beijing where he supported the Khmer Rouge in their plot to overthrow the Lon Nol government. When the new government fell to the Khmer Rouge in 1975 Prince Sihanouk returned to Cambodia to 
become the symbolic head of state while Pol Pot remained in power. Sihanouk, who had imagined living as a retired gentleman and perhaps a public relations man for his country was to spend the next few years virtually as a hostage of the Khmer Rouge. ALL supporters of the Lon Nol government were in grave danger during the Khmer Rouge regime and most were killed. Any family known to have been related to or affiliated with a member of the former Lon Nol government was to be destroyed. While tra
veling through Laos back in February Alecs and I prepared for our trip to Cambodia by reading together the chilling tale of a child's struggle to survive during the Khmer Rouge regime. Her father was a member of the Lon Nol government and by the end of the book aptly titled 'First they killed my father' we had a new perspective on Cambodia. Although much has changed since the Khmer Rouge fell the corruption here in Cambodia is said to be second to only Myanmar in Asia. Many former members of the Khmer Rouge 
hold positions of political power and the people as a whole feel helpless. As we discuss the politics behind the current leaders Sam's eye is caught by a old Khmer man selling hammocks to passersby. Sam and I quickly decide we each want one and spark a deal with the frail, wrinkled old man for $5 each - much more than it was worth but Sam says it best "what is $5 to you?," he asks " and what is $5 to him?". We head into the complex where we spend the next three quarters of an hour exploring the many temples, the beautifully manicured gardens with hedges shaped like elephants and lions and th
e hundreds of Buddhist statues. A long day ends back at our hotel where we all relax in the pool.
o their feet to greet an old friend (the brother of their tuk-tuk driver from a few years ago) who has come to take us around the city. We do a quick meet and greet and rush back to our room to collect our things for the day. 'What are we going to do about the tuk-tuk drivers waiting for us outside that we promised to give our business too," I ask worried about leaving them in the lurch. "Why don't we give each driver $20US for lost wages and explain the situation." We do just that and the humble drivers are more than happy as this mere $20 is sometimes more than a weeks wage for them. We also agree to have them pick us up for dinner around 6PM tonight. Hopping into Phanit and his friends tuk-tuk the five of us head out to the city. Stop number one is a story u
nto itself. For some bizarre reason Dad wanted to go to the local dump which is supposedly something of a smokey mountain (where people live) and somehow we are now standing in the middle of a landfill. There is nothing here but garbage, stinky, dirty garbage and thankfully a number of NGO's have already come here to help the children who once lived here get educated and fed. After enough wandering Dad apologizes for the complete waste of time while the rest of us smugly remind him that we 'told you so'. We continue on to the Russian Market, a place Alecs and I did not visit last time we were here. Unlike any market we have been to yet, this one is unique, eclectic and brilliant! Winding crooked streets, stalls spilling into the aisles, a mass maze of textiles, DVD's, trinkets, t-shirts, souvenirs, flowers, fruit and there seems to be no end in sigh
t. Alecs and I come to an opening back on the street where teems of tuk-tuks stream past us as motorbikes zoom by. "We made it out," Alecs says, breathing in. "Ya but we haven't gone the other direction," I say pointing down the street. We enter back in the winding world and return once again, our hands filled with bags. Clambering back into the tuk-tuk's, we head to Central Market, a much larger place than the last where we finish up our shopping fix. We quickly drop our goods off at the hotel and head out for lunch at a fantastic little restaurant called Friends. Back in March Alecs and I used our Lonely Planet guide to Cambodia as something of a bible and this restaurant was recommended in the 'dining for a cause' section of the Phnom Penh chapter. Friends is an NGO aimed at giving street kids a fighting chance and th restaurant trains them in the hospitality i
ndustry and helps them become employable. The staff all wear t-shirts indicating whether they are teachers or students, and the food is absolutely fantastic. A team of smiling Cambodian'
s greet us at the door and guide us out to the patio. We ask both Phanit and his friend to join us but only Phanit comes as the other driver has already eaten. Sitting together at the heavy wooden table under the warm blue sky as children play in the school yard beside us has everyone more than relaxed. We use this as an opportunity to learn more about Mom and Dad's friend Phanit and his family, who we will visit tomorrow. Phanit's family lives about a 45 minute Tuk-tuk drive outside of Phnom Penh in a rural village where rice farming is their main source if income. Our meals are delivered I excitedly dig into the hummus on won ton wrappers and Greek salad which is just as good as I re
member. It seems Alecs and I chose wisely as everyone is just as much in love with this place as we are. "So where to next?" Phanit asks as we clambour back into the tuk-tuks. We head to Wat Phnom, one of the most important pagodas in Phnom Penh built in 1373. We climb up the hill to the top where both the pagoda and a Buddhist temple sit. "Puppies," I shout to Alecs spotting two adorable balls of fur waddling around the temple chewing on random pieces of furniture and tumbling around each other. I race over to pick them both up while Mom, Dad and Sam pay to release a bird from a bamboo cage. After wandering around the pagoda we head down the backside of the hill where a number of monkeys sit on various pieces of the temple. We buy some bananas and a local bean-like vegetable which the monkeys love. "Anyone want a drink?" Dad asks as he approaches a small vendor on the side of the road. We unanimously nod our heads as Dad orders a few pop's, waters and juices when sudd
enly before money is exchanged the vendor scurries around her cart and drives off. She apologizes in broken English as we all stand a little perplexed but mostly amused as every vendor around us does the same. Moments later they all scuttle back to their locations and continue serving their customers, including us. "The police," the woman says, "if they see me selling here they get me," she says placing her hands behind her back as if they were handcuffed. We all grin at one another still amused at how everything operates over here, and loving it all the same. Before long we are walking towards the Royal Palace, a complex of buildings which are the royal abode of the King of Cambodia, Norodom Sihamouni, the son of former Prince Norodom Sihanouk. On March 18, 1970 while the P
rince Sihanouk was out of the country travelling, Prime Minister Lon Nol convented the National Assembly which voted to dispose Sihanouk as head of state giving Lon Nol emergency power. After being deposed Sihanouk moved to Beijing where he supported the Khmer Rouge in their plot to overthrow the Lon Nol government. When the new government fell to the Khmer Rouge in 1975 Prince Sihanouk returned to Cambodia to 
become the symbolic head of state while Pol Pot remained in power. Sihanouk, who had imagined living as a retired gentleman and perhaps a public relations man for his country was to spend the next few years virtually as a hostage of the Khmer Rouge. ALL supporters of the Lon Nol government were in grave danger during the Khmer Rouge regime and most were killed. Any family known to have been related to or affiliated with a member of the former Lon Nol government was to be destroyed. While tra
veling through Laos back in February Alecs and I prepared for our trip to Cambodia by reading together the chilling tale of a child's struggle to survive during the Khmer Rouge regime. Her father was a member of the Lon Nol government and by the end of the book aptly titled 'First they killed my father' we had a new perspective on Cambodia. Although much has changed since the Khmer Rouge fell the corruption here in Cambodia is said to be second to only Myanmar in Asia. Many former members of the Khmer Rouge 
hold positions of political power and the people as a whole feel helpless. As we discuss the politics behind the current leaders Sam's eye is caught by a old Khmer man selling hammocks to passersby. Sam and I quickly decide we each want one and spark a deal with the frail, wrinkled old man for $5 each - much more than it was worth but Sam says it best "what is $5 to you?," he asks " and what is $5 to him?". We head into the complex where we spend the next three quarters of an hour exploring the many temples, the beautifully manicured gardens with hedges shaped like elephants and lions and th
e hundreds of Buddhist statues. A long day ends back at our hotel where we all relax in the pool. Tomorrow we are planning to visit Phanit's family in a rural village to have lunch.
Until next time so long,
Alecs and Meg in Phnom Penh
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