Sensory Overload

I only left Adelaide on Monday, but it feels as though I've been in Cambodia forever. So much sensory stimulation gets packed into a day;it is certainly a contrast to the everyday monotony of the Adelaide 9-5. On Monday we flew Adelaide to Melbourne, staying overnight to get organised and ready for the big flight with 4 kids. On Tuesday we (Veronica and her children Time, Ocea, Levi and Neshica and I) had an 11:05am flight to Kuala Lumpur which took about 8 hours. We stayed overnight in KL and thankfully managed the 4:30am start on Wednesday to fly to Phnom Penh, although only just made it onto the plane before take off due to a confusing airport and incorrect boarding notification. We tumbled out of the plane and received an amazing greeting by the Him family (who run TTLC, the therapy centre I will be working with). They adorned me with an intricate sweet smelling flower neck garland and we were soon piled onto a tuk tuk and off to the hotel.

At this point I was in shock from what I saw around me as we zipped in between cars, motorbikes with people with babies in their arms and bicycles laden with goods. The smells assaulted me as we whizzed past; petrol fumes, rotten fish, sizzling chicken, automotive spray paint and the unidentifiable. The guest house 'Coffee Corner' had made up beds for us in a room with no bathroom up 3 flights of steep stairs! 

My first Khmer meal was rice noodle soup with bits of liver, pork, and 'meat ball fat' patties. Needless to say, I couldn't finish it. We then ventured to the Russian Markets, undercover stalls filled with brightly hued materials, scarves, clothing, beads, and silver goods, wooden statues and pirated DVDs. Upon returning to the guest house, Jennifer Him presented me with an amazing Cambodia survival kit, a bag filled with all the essentials; hand spray, mozzie repellent, tissues for toilets, a small purse containing an address book with all important contact numbers, a Cambodian-English dictionary, a map of Cambodia, a fan, scarf, laundry powder, head scarf (to protect against head lice at the therapy centre), thongs, a hair clip, antibiotics, hydration powder and menthol balm. She also had photocopied a whole folder of relevant information, including tourist booklets.I was humbled by her generosity and welcome. 


In the evening Veronica and I took a tuk tuk out to a place that washed our hair and gave us a pedicure. We then popped next door for foot, head and neck massages accompanied by ginger tea to soothe away the air travel blues. 


The best thing about Cambodia thus far are the beverages, smoothies in every fruit flavour imaginable (soursop, dragonfruit or durian anyone?). Icy sugar cane juice on the side of the street squeezed through rollers while you wait. Mango lassis...iced tea...bubble tea. 

Today I visited Tuol Seng, the 'Genocide Museum' which confronted my capacity to comprehend mass scale human tragedy. The place, a former school is open for visitors to walk through the cells that still house the original metal beds and torture instruments. Eerie, ghostly and poignantly powerful. I was inspired by an art exhibition on the third floor, portraying the photos of the captives on large canvases, spattered with coloured lines and squiggles emotively representing the mental angst and confusion that these people knew as their daily experience. I find it unfathomable that these crimes against humanity occurred in our very recent history and that our world allowed it all to happen. I find it highlights my ignorance about similar situations happening in the world right now that conveniently escape our media system that thrives on the superficial.


Phnom Penh is a place of stark contrasts. At first glance it seems so archaic, poorly developed, filthy, confronting, uncomfortable and difficult. But then you find in between street vendors, piles of rubbish, and babies playing on the street, high end boutique shops, air conditioned Western style cafes and beautifully decorated shops. It takes a bit of skill to find the hope amongst the mess, like 'Daughters', a beauty salon, cafe and shop run by girls rescued from sex trafficking who now have restored self esteem, and a will to live abundantly with restored integrity. The fair trade shop selling quality clothing, trinkets, jewellery recycled from brass bomb shells and wall hangings that provide income for people affected by land mines and polio. I am beginning to look through the obvious to see the possibility of a Cambodia that is complete how it is; messy, frenetic, dynamic, endlessly fascinating and surviving despite its exceptionally complicated past that infiltrates its culture today.