Thursday, July 27, 2006
contemporary events
Whenever I watch CNN, Spohea asks me if the news is ‘live’, and I say ‘yes’ and she says ‘then why is it always the same?’ Israel has been in the news a lot recently and Sophea has been asking me a lot of questions. I give what I think are good generalities in response but she has still more questions. So I decided to use pirated DVDs to explain the whole history of the middle east to her. I chose “The Merchant of Venice” with Al Pacino, and “The Pianist” directed by Roman Polanski. So now Sophea is all caught up and can analyze the situation as well as the best pundits a pound of flesh can buy.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Saturday, July 15, 2006
ongoing saga
It is time to give a full accounting of my recently ended association with the Bokor Mountain Lodge. I will start at the very beginning. When I lived in Phnom Penh in 1994, working as a photo archivist at the Tuol Sleng genocide museum, I frequented a restaurant called the DéjaVu, on Street 240 just next to the Royal Palace. Sitting on the balcony you could look over the high yellow wall into the compound and see armed Khmer Rouge soldiers milling about. They had been given sanctuary by the King who was trying to broker a peace treaty with them and the newly formed (UN installed) CPP/FUNCINPEC government. The restaurant was run by Antony and Kelly, a brit and a kiwi. At this time there were only a handful of western run eateries and of the few that I frequented (the Cafe No Problem, the FCC, the Wildcat, the Rock Hard Cafe) the DejaVu was by far the nicest, both in ambiance and quality of food. This is how I know Antony.
During this time travel to the coast, either Sihanoukville or Kampot, was prohibitively dangerous. Three friends of Kelly’s were abducted and killed traveling down route 4. Several NGO workers were held for ransom by the Khmer Rouge. Kampot remained dangerous for another six years, with various backpackers being kidnapped and killed.
A few years later Antony took over the FCC, and made it the special place it is today. He has a real love of the old colonial architecture and aside from making it a really comfortable establishment he always had the best trained staff and he took very good care of them.
My nine months in Phnom Penh will be permanently etched in my mind and will only be described through my fictional writings as the reality was indeed stranger than fiction. I returned to Cambodia several times but it was in 2005 that I finally visited the coast. I took the bus to Sihanoukville, suffering from an eye infection, and spent 5 days at Occitali Beach. Then I took a cab to Kampot. I stayed at the Bokor Mountain Club, knowing it was operated by the FCC. I stayed in a really shitty room (room #3) for $15 / night. But I was pleasantly enchanted by the location and the employees. I met a good friend and fellow writer, Ioannis, visiting from KL, whom I am still in correspondence with. The bartender was a charming young Khmer named Tula and his infectious smile went a long way to alleviate the smelly bathroom and the loss of my favorite white shirt to their laundry service. He saw my Apple laptop and told me about his old manager, Paul, who had the same computer and would hook it into the stereo to play music. As the bar was only playing Khmer music I offered to hook up my iTunes and it greatly improved the ambience of the place. I told him as I was leaving that I would be back one day and be his manager.
I returned to Cambodia in August of 2005 with a half finished novel in my mind. I took a container ship across the Pacific to Tokyo to spend the nine days writing. After a week in Tokyo and a few days in Osaka I took the ferry to Shanghai. After a week there I flew direct to Phnom Penh. I stayed the first few days at the FCC. I met Antony there and asked if he could help me find an apartment. He called Sam who had an apartment just down the street above Hurley’s Cantina. It was a long treacherous stair climb, but the apartment was nicely furnished and had a great view of the river. Sam said he would give me a special deal, $350/ month as I was an old friend. I wasn’t sure if this were true until I learned later that the apartment had been renting for $400 and after I left it was again renting at $400. Sam also introduced me to one of his employees, Nith, a young man who worked at the Rendezvous Restaurant and spoke excellent English. Nith spent a day helping me get a cell phone and would not accept any money from me. He was interested in my work at Tuol Sleng and invited me to a seminar at his university. The seminar was about the future of Cambodia, but it did address ways to reconcile with the past, Nith suggested I speak about what should be done with the museum at Tuol Sleng, as I had been telling him that it should not be treated like a tourist attraction and that if it were to continue as a museum it needed to include more contextual information, not just gruesome titillation and old Vietnamese propaganda. I missed the deadline for submitting my thesis to the seminar (it would have cost me $10 to speak).
During this time I spent a lot of time reconnecting with old friends. I spent some time talking with Antony about the people we knew back in ’94 and the changes in the city. I mentioned enjoying my stay at the Bokor Mountain Club and expressed my intent to live in Kampot to write my novel. He told me the hotel had been closed for almost a year and that I could rent it for $400/ month. I thought at the time that he was kidding but later I asked Paul, who used to manage the Club, and he said Antony was probably serious. A little later I asked Antony if it were still on offer, but he said someone had already made an agreement. Paul introduced me to Eric, Antony’s uncle (in law) and after becoming friends I learned that Eric had intended to rent the BMC, but was having second thoughts. He had already taken the step of having the exterior repainted for $2400. It was at this stage that his negotiations with Antony had stalled. Eventually, Antony and Eric and I were all sitting at the FCC when the BMC came up again. Antony suggested that he would help Eric open the hotel and that they should hire me to be an ‘artist in residence’ to keep an eye on things. Eric still wanted Antony to reimburse him for the cost of the painting, but Antony thought Eric had paid too much. Eric asked me to look over some documents Antony had given him; old spread sheets from the BMC, memos, ect ... I told Eric it seemed a viable opportunity and suggested that I might be able to raise some money to go in with him as equal partners. I figured if I could get $5000, and he put up another $2600, we could get the place up and running. I even went so far as to make some spread sheets of my own, based on the old numbers from the BMC and therefore most likely underestimating the potential traffic as Kampot was quickly becoming more accessible while the rest of Cambodia was rapidly reaching a tourist saturation point. I also put together a rough estimate of the start up costs, keeping them under $10k. I should note that one of the striking things about the memos was that the action points remained the same from one year to the next, as if nothing had been accomplished.
There were occasional stories about Kampot in the Cambodia Daily, mostly about an ex-pat American who ran a small cafe and had a web site promoting euthanasia. He was encouraging people to come to Kampot to off themselves as there were no laws against it (not true) and it was easy to get the vodka, vallium and plastic bags that he recommended as a release from this mortal coil. There was a movement to get him deported. This increased when a British woman, suffering from terminal illness, died of an overdose of vallium and vodka in her guesthouse in Kampot. It is likely that if she had done the same in a advanced country she would still be alive as all she needed was to have her stomach pumped. In Kampot if you are sick or dying the only thing they can do is give you an IV drip (glucose) and send you on the 3 hour drive to PP where you will probably die of some complication in Calamity Hospital. So there was some bad publicity about Kampot, but nothing that would deter tourists. I would recommend anyone considering suicide come to Cambodia, but not because it is legal or easy to off one’s self, but because a few weeks here should be enough to make you appreciate whatever life you have. And if you remain suicidal, just walk around Phnom Penh at night, someone will do you a favor.
Eric had the use of a Hyundai Land-Monster SUV, so we drove down to see the condition of the hotel. As we drove out past the airport a land-mine went off in a nearby field. Hopefully just a cow. We felt the shock-wave and then saw the plum of smoke.
During this time travel to the coast, either Sihanoukville or Kampot, was prohibitively dangerous. Three friends of Kelly’s were abducted and killed traveling down route 4. Several NGO workers were held for ransom by the Khmer Rouge. Kampot remained dangerous for another six years, with various backpackers being kidnapped and killed.
A few years later Antony took over the FCC, and made it the special place it is today. He has a real love of the old colonial architecture and aside from making it a really comfortable establishment he always had the best trained staff and he took very good care of them.
My nine months in Phnom Penh will be permanently etched in my mind and will only be described through my fictional writings as the reality was indeed stranger than fiction. I returned to Cambodia several times but it was in 2005 that I finally visited the coast. I took the bus to Sihanoukville, suffering from an eye infection, and spent 5 days at Occitali Beach. Then I took a cab to Kampot. I stayed at the Bokor Mountain Club, knowing it was operated by the FCC. I stayed in a really shitty room (room #3) for $15 / night. But I was pleasantly enchanted by the location and the employees. I met a good friend and fellow writer, Ioannis, visiting from KL, whom I am still in correspondence with. The bartender was a charming young Khmer named Tula and his infectious smile went a long way to alleviate the smelly bathroom and the loss of my favorite white shirt to their laundry service. He saw my Apple laptop and told me about his old manager, Paul, who had the same computer and would hook it into the stereo to play music. As the bar was only playing Khmer music I offered to hook up my iTunes and it greatly improved the ambience of the place. I told him as I was leaving that I would be back one day and be his manager.
I returned to Cambodia in August of 2005 with a half finished novel in my mind. I took a container ship across the Pacific to Tokyo to spend the nine days writing. After a week in Tokyo and a few days in Osaka I took the ferry to Shanghai. After a week there I flew direct to Phnom Penh. I stayed the first few days at the FCC. I met Antony there and asked if he could help me find an apartment. He called Sam who had an apartment just down the street above Hurley’s Cantina. It was a long treacherous stair climb, but the apartment was nicely furnished and had a great view of the river. Sam said he would give me a special deal, $350/ month as I was an old friend. I wasn’t sure if this were true until I learned later that the apartment had been renting for $400 and after I left it was again renting at $400. Sam also introduced me to one of his employees, Nith, a young man who worked at the Rendezvous Restaurant and spoke excellent English. Nith spent a day helping me get a cell phone and would not accept any money from me. He was interested in my work at Tuol Sleng and invited me to a seminar at his university. The seminar was about the future of Cambodia, but it did address ways to reconcile with the past, Nith suggested I speak about what should be done with the museum at Tuol Sleng, as I had been telling him that it should not be treated like a tourist attraction and that if it were to continue as a museum it needed to include more contextual information, not just gruesome titillation and old Vietnamese propaganda. I missed the deadline for submitting my thesis to the seminar (it would have cost me $10 to speak).
During this time I spent a lot of time reconnecting with old friends. I spent some time talking with Antony about the people we knew back in ’94 and the changes in the city. I mentioned enjoying my stay at the Bokor Mountain Club and expressed my intent to live in Kampot to write my novel. He told me the hotel had been closed for almost a year and that I could rent it for $400/ month. I thought at the time that he was kidding but later I asked Paul, who used to manage the Club, and he said Antony was probably serious. A little later I asked Antony if it were still on offer, but he said someone had already made an agreement. Paul introduced me to Eric, Antony’s uncle (in law) and after becoming friends I learned that Eric had intended to rent the BMC, but was having second thoughts. He had already taken the step of having the exterior repainted for $2400. It was at this stage that his negotiations with Antony had stalled. Eventually, Antony and Eric and I were all sitting at the FCC when the BMC came up again. Antony suggested that he would help Eric open the hotel and that they should hire me to be an ‘artist in residence’ to keep an eye on things. Eric still wanted Antony to reimburse him for the cost of the painting, but Antony thought Eric had paid too much. Eric asked me to look over some documents Antony had given him; old spread sheets from the BMC, memos, ect ... I told Eric it seemed a viable opportunity and suggested that I might be able to raise some money to go in with him as equal partners. I figured if I could get $5000, and he put up another $2600, we could get the place up and running. I even went so far as to make some spread sheets of my own, based on the old numbers from the BMC and therefore most likely underestimating the potential traffic as Kampot was quickly becoming more accessible while the rest of Cambodia was rapidly reaching a tourist saturation point. I also put together a rough estimate of the start up costs, keeping them under $10k. I should note that one of the striking things about the memos was that the action points remained the same from one year to the next, as if nothing had been accomplished.
There were occasional stories about Kampot in the Cambodia Daily, mostly about an ex-pat American who ran a small cafe and had a web site promoting euthanasia. He was encouraging people to come to Kampot to off themselves as there were no laws against it (not true) and it was easy to get the vodka, vallium and plastic bags that he recommended as a release from this mortal coil. There was a movement to get him deported. This increased when a British woman, suffering from terminal illness, died of an overdose of vallium and vodka in her guesthouse in Kampot. It is likely that if she had done the same in a advanced country she would still be alive as all she needed was to have her stomach pumped. In Kampot if you are sick or dying the only thing they can do is give you an IV drip (glucose) and send you on the 3 hour drive to PP where you will probably die of some complication in Calamity Hospital. So there was some bad publicity about Kampot, but nothing that would deter tourists. I would recommend anyone considering suicide come to Cambodia, but not because it is legal or easy to off one’s self, but because a few weeks here should be enough to make you appreciate whatever life you have. And if you remain suicidal, just walk around Phnom Penh at night, someone will do you a favor.
Eric had the use of a Hyundai Land-Monster SUV, so we drove down to see the condition of the hotel. As we drove out past the airport a land-mine went off in a nearby field. Hopefully just a cow. We felt the shock-wave and then saw the plum of smoke.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Kampot New Year
I was happy to see Jon Smith arrive in Kampot. He brought lots of goodies from home and seems to understand my love of this place. I took him and Martin to see Jasmine's family for the new year celebration and he seemed to really enjoy the experience. He is making progress on his fetch-a-phrase project. On Saturday we all took a boat ride to the Bodhi Villa to watch the fire works that were mostly aimed at our boat or the river. Jon tried to ride our rented Moped after Jas was too tired to drive us all home from dinner and Martin showed him how to shift gears but forgot to show him how to break. Jon drove straight at the wall of the courtyard and was saved greivious bodily injury by a wood pile and some laundry. The Moto was a little fucked up but Jas was able to drive it home, Martin took his bike and Jon and I walked home. It was 3000 riel to repair the bike (75 cents).
The workers are back at it with the bathrooms and Jon has been helpfull in drawing plans for the countertops and showing his exasperation at the shoddiness of the workmanship (which I have become quite used to - even enomoured with.
Fun this evening iChatting with folks back in the states: Galen and Tai.
It is raining like all fuck now.
The workers are back at it with the bathrooms and Jon has been helpfull in drawing plans for the countertops and showing his exasperation at the shoddiness of the workmanship (which I have become quite used to - even enomoured with.
Fun this evening iChatting with folks back in the states: Galen and Tai.
It is raining like all fuck now.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
bathroom renovation
I am renovating the bathrooms at the hotel. Mr Hey Guy is going to install the new urinal I bought from Mr Pissat. I am not making this up. Now all work has stopped as it is Khmer New Year. The work will resume on the 17th.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Friday, March 10, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
Friday, February 17, 2006
good help is hard to find
After You left I got Mad. Mad is the electrician. Then D asked La to send over Da to set up the internet. He got it working, then he said he would send me the bill by email. he said they would turn off the service until they were paid. As he was leaving I asked how I could get the bill by email if the service was turned off. He thought for a moment and then said he would deliver the bill personally. I shouted for Joy, as he passed on his moto. He, as luck would have it, has been looking after Lucky’s pipes. So I had Joy to look at my shower. He recommended a water pressure pump. I showed Mao how to sand the new shelves by doing half of them myself. Then he took over and did half the rest of the job. I then had to decide whether to have a massage by Touch or Ouch across the street at “Massage by the Blind $4/hour”. I hired a carptinter to do the bar shelves, his name is Nok. They don't know what carpinters are; they call them 'woodmen'. So play with that one.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
how much do I owe You?
I had to fire our contractor before he had finished painting the insides of the hotel. He was doing a terrible job and a lot of local expats said he was overcharging and he simply could not understand why we wanted him to pull out the mold infested 1/8” plywood ceiling in room six; he wanted to paint over it. So we had to figure out how much of the job was done and how much we owed him. This was the most stressful day I’ve had in Kampot. He was convinced he was 90% done. I would be generous in suggesting that he was almost halfway done. The main problem arose as he started painting room six before he had finished downstairs. Room six requires a total gutting, not just for the mold but the electrics are all fucked and the floor is sinking. He seemed to think it was amusing that I insisted on taking down the plywood, and I decided to fire him. It was just down to negotiating a price for the shoddy job he had already completed. The original contract for all the indoor painting was $2100. We had given him a $400 deposit to start the work. I asked my manager to find out how much the paint cost ($380) and how much his workers were paid per day ($5 for the supervisor, $.75 for the others) and I began to get an idea of what was going on. They had worked four days, sometimes only two or three workers, never on time, long lunches, and off by five. They splattered paint on the tile floors, ruined a lot of furniture which they used instead of ladders (even though I loaned them my new ladder), poured paint down our drain (clogging it) and didn’t mask off any of the light fixtures. So he wants $1000 on top of the deposit. We have our “fixer” Mr Sovaan, an ex KR who was doing the books for the FCC mediate and he keeps taking the contractor’s side, saying we had agreed to pay and he was almost done. I was smiling all the time, explaining that we needed to finish the electrics before we painted and just needed to sort the expenses. Long story short, we agreed to pay $500 and let them take the remaining paint. The contractor’s name is Mr You. So I owe You nothing...
another bridge story
When Paul was visiting with his girl Vero, one of his old drivers stopped by the hotel. Paul was the manager of the BMC for two years and everyone knows him. So he introduces me to this Khmer that used to drive guests up to the top of Bokor Mountain in the BMC’s 4 wheel drive. He didn’t speak much english and Paul said he was probably insane, but also that he was the last person to destroy the bridge in Kampot. He set the charges and blew the bridge as the KR were about to take Kampot. I had always assumed that the B52’s had taken out the bridge back in ‘69. Now it just needs an overloaded salt truck...
Monday, February 06, 2006
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
too much salt
Kampot is famous for its pepper and salt. Ecky and I woke early and headed to the FCC for coffee and to meet our 4 ton rental truck. It was late. We hired five moto-dops to load the truck with all the kitchen equipment that the FCC had been storing from the old Bokor Mountain Club. They threw in some big frames and a cash-register and some other stuff. Then we drove to the apartment and loaded al the boxes of linens and curtains and t-shirts. The truck was barely half full. We grabbed an AC unit and the electrician and sent it all down to Kampot. Then we went and picked up Ant at his house. We drove south through Kandal and then onto national route 3. We took the new road that passes through Kep. After two and a half hours we were nearing Kampot. Fifteen kilometers to go and the traffic slows, a tour bus is parked by the side of the road and a lot of people are crowding the middle of the road up ahead. Tourist are carrying their bags up from a little dirt side road to the tour bus. Traffic stops. Cars are turning around. We ask what’s going on. “Bridge out”. Is there another way around? They gesture back the way we came. “Route 3”. The road we were on connects with route 3 about half way back to Phnom Penh, and from there it would be again as far to Kampot, about 180 k total. The motos and bikes and tourists were being ferried across the river on fishing boats (500 riel). We turn around and head back the way we came. I consult the map ( a German map) and see a small connecting road from Kampon Trach 30 k direct to route 3. So we stop in Kampon Trach and buy some beers. We ask about how to get to Kampot, they point down the way we came. We explain that the bridge is out. They don’t believe us. Finally they say we must go back to route 3. We ask about the dirt road, “No, very bad road.” So we take the dirt road. It was only 30k to route 3, past some really beautiful country and some very stunned locals. But it was also a “very bad road” and we made about 30k/h. When we finally made it to Kampot the truck (which we had zoomed past a few k outside of PP) was waiting for us. It was then that we learned what had happened to the bridge. It was a long bridge and it had a big hole in it that traffic had to navigate around. A big truck full of salt took the left hand way around this hole and the whole section of bridge just flipped over pitching the truck into the drink. The truck driver was held for questioning and will most likely be blamed by the government.
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