Phnom Penh and the sad state of law school

So much for National Day Pride. (Quite unlike this amusing display of a cab on a could-not-be-brighter Monday morning a week ago.)

A couple of us (best company ever) took off on a flight to Phnom Penh over the long weekend. Not the most exciting of holidays one would imagine. Snide remarks aplenty, when some hear of my destination. "That's so Not Me. I'm too atas for that (i.e. that is so below me.)" "Phnom Penh? I thought holidays are meant to be happy?" You get the point.

I'd admit that expectations were not high. After all, it was a city ravaged by those haunting three years eight months and twenty days (when Pol Pot was devil incarnate). Albeit having occurred some 30 years ago, time clearly failed - and fails - to eliminate the bruises and scars left amidst the lives of the people even if you suspect it somehow assuages the pain. Wounds are not as fresh and the nation is slowly stepping out of those shadows. Deep down, however, being human will tell you that it could take generations to recover from the depths of such depravity.

Yet it is a gem Phnom Penh, a hidden, unpolished one, perhaps, but undeniably, a gem. Our trip had a bit of everything - S21 (the high school turned security prison in Pol Pot's era), the Killing Fields, the National Museum and Wat Phnom, for a taste of the city's recent dark history and cultural background; the intertwined and quaint, little streets just around our hotel, for some of the best Amok fish (Cambodian favourite dish) and to die for chocolate sorbet; a ride on the tuk-tuk for a glimpse of the simple Cambodian life; a visit to the fresh market and caught back-to-back, arms and legs amidst the local Russian market, and strolling along the very dirty streets witnessing the hustle and bustle and raw reality of the poverty that abides in the people; joining the Cambodian Cooking Class: being embarrassed by how simple pounding could be so difficult, realising how we the very well fed are so weak in comparison to the gaunt Cambodian women, but emerged learning the beauty of Cambodian cooking such as the intelligent use of spices (I love their Amok fish - Best Dish Ever; beats Thai food!); and retiring to our lovely oasis of a home in The Kabiki, one of the best boutique hotels hustled away in a tiny corner, one step from the city noise, yet in its spaciousness and grand decor, miles away from the grind and dirt of the cobbled streets of the city.



So I say: this was one of my best trips ever. Unexpectedly, but undeniably so. Reaffirmed once again: the company maketh the trip. And never say never to any city or location for travel. Cities amaze you for their history, their culture, and perhaps most of all, a reminder that we are so blessed where we are but amidst our 'busy-ness', our preoccupation with the things of the world and our preconceived notions of so many things, we fail to see all that.

Some nuggets of the trip:


Home sweet home at The Kabiki



First dalliance with the Amok Fish



In goes the oil

Of unspoken suffering and pain - the S21 Security Prison

Tuk-tuks galore

Simple joy outside Cafe Yejj

French cuisine - wonderful lunch









Ze Appetizer, not that we need any









Our Salmon Trio









Main course: yet more salmon covered in some cream sauce (I know, I am bad with names)








They do Khmer cuisine too: some more heavenly Amok

Amazing architecture @ the National Museum

Outdoor bathing, anyone?

One of my favourite: signifies that fighting Cambodian Spirit









Yes, Swensens exists in this place









Crossing the maddening traffic on a typical street in Phnom Penh - on the way to a hot stones massage







View from tuk-tuk - amidst a blind trust that the driver can get us to our desired destination (hot stones massage. hot stones massage.)









Not exactly pleased at being hauled out of bed on Monday morning for a Cambodian wet market excursion. But hey this is the stuff of holidays. Reminded me of Tokyo's Tsukiji, somehow.

Dagger glares a second before this was shot.
Perfect timing. And the things that photos never tell.

Cambodian Cooking Class.
Join one and hope everyone washes their hands. Yes you eat what you make.

Our first dish - Chaio Yor (Fried spring rolls)
Taken a moment before the remaining ones flew off the plate.
Positively divine.
Try it: 2 cups taro root (shredded), 2 cups carrot (shredded), 25 spring roll sheets, 1 tbsp peanuts, 1 beat up egg, 3 cups cooking oil, salt, sugar, pepper (to taste)

The Pounding Machine - I turn garlic, shallot, red pepper and hot chillies into mush. What Electronic Blender?

The Bodybuilder takes over

In less than 5 minutes, she achieves what I could not in perhaps double the time (or more)
*hangs head in shame*

Finally, the Amok brews happily in pot.
Try it: 30g young nhor leaves, 3 tbp fish sauce, 3 tbsp kaffir lime leaves, 3 chilli peppers, 500g fish (we used tiger), 3/4 cup coconut cream, 2 cups coconut milk, 1 egg, beaten

Tada.
Oh alright, so the banana cup collapsed. Whatever: my first Amok Fish!!
Could not be heavenlier (I'm not even using English)

Indulge me, please. Another view of The Concoction.
Note to self: Banana Cup Should Not Leak.






Road out of The Kabiki - where no cab or tuk-tuk is allowed. Further left is apparently home to the most VIP of the VIPs of the city. Strangely, deserted keyboard vanishes within the hour we were gone.







Landmark around hotel corner.
Turn left for a quaint conclave littered with shops and restaurants and The Best Chocolate Sorbet Ever.

Extra Bitter Chocolate Sorbet
So Good it Hurts.

Serious Chocolate Overdose

Could not get in a shot without
The Earnest Reporter from Japan snapping away.

Wiped clean: our last and immensely satisfying meal in lovely Phnom Penh. Do yourself a favour and pay the city a visit, won't you?

In other news: the Lil Sister is at this moment deeply preoccupied with Introduction to International Law. On the second day of Law School. Seriously, they used to teach that in the third year. Stress: do they believe this needs to grow with generations?

xoxo
claire.