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Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Let me take you to Ploung Village.


Walk with me in the rain,

Three kilometers

Down the multicolored river-road that leads to Ploung,

Because the moto won’t make it in September.


When you’ve crossed this patch of sharp, red gravel,

Slip your flip-flops off to tread

Through the dark, soft-bottomed puddles

And the shoe-sucking yellow slush,

So that your feet can appreciate

The clean, white sand

And the firm, orange earth

And the hard-packed red clay.



From around the corner, the rhythmic clang of buffalo bells

Chimes the approach of four massive black beasts,

About to share the way with us,

The narrow way hedged by thick forest and barbed wire.

We pick a side, and the buffalo walk steadily by –

Step-a-step-a-step-a-step,

Followed by their drivers – two kids holding slim sticks,

One buffalo shies off the road into the forest,

Giving the weird white creatures some extra space.


The way widens into a crossroads,

And the water deepens.

Don’t bother to roll up your pants today,

Because the water comes up to here!

But take your cell phone out of your pocket,

And wade through.


On the other side, the forest drops away

As we near the village.

Soaked, rolled-up pants drip water down bare calves

To the water pooled at your ankles

Your thin, bright blue plastic poncho clings to the skin of your arms

Lift the hood obscuring your view and let the rain seep into your hair, drop onto your face

Hear the sound of rain, the swoosh of water disturbed by your walking

Smell the washed air, the air that brushes the rice fields and cradles the morning mist on the dark, forested mountains.


On either side,

A jumble of weathered wooden stakes

Keeps the buffalo out of the smooth expanse of

Rice, rice, rice to the dark mountains.

Gazing, you decide

Grass does not deserve to be called green.


We walk on through the ankle-deep, sand-bottomed stream of a path.

We start to see the houses, wooden with thatch or corrugated metal roofs,

All on stilts to tempt a breeze in the heat.

The houses coagulate, and the rice fields fade,

The path dries a little, and firms to red clay,

And the buffalo dung comes closer together.



The people greet us,

Hanging in hammocks under their houses,

Gathered together under the thatch shelter of a café storefront,

Kids shyly pausing on the street to smile.

They laugh when we show them how we’re wet to here.





Welcome to Ploung.



(Note: Check "For More Pictures" link to your right - I've added many more pictures!)

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Khmer Food

This entry shall put an end to a myth that I myself have perpetuated, namely that Cambodian food involves lots of coconut milk curries. That would be Thai food.

Khmer food, as I’ve experienced it for the past month, actually involves little coconut milk or curry, at least in day-to-day dishes. But here’s a list of seven things it does involve:

1. Rice. In Cambodia, if you are not eating rice, you are not eating a meal.* Khmer rice noodles are acceptable as a form of rice, as they are made entirely of rice, water, and a little salt. I have heard stories of Khmer refugees sent to the US or Canada who were utterly forlorn and unable to eat the food provided to them because it did not include rice. I have also seen people here eat their noodles with rice. In Khmer, “Knyam Bei?” or, “Are you eating/will you eat?” transliterates to “Eat rice?”

2. Family Style. Each person has their own spoon, and possibly a fork, and possibly chopsticks, if there are noodles. To drink, there is usually water, tea, or chilled tea. Each person also has their own bowl, which at the beginning of the meal is filled with (you guessed it!) rice (or for breakfast, rice noodles or rice porridge). In the middle of the table are many different dishes, from which each person takes a little at a time of whatever they please to eat with their rice.

3. Dishes. From what I understand, there are a lot of standard traditional dishes here, developed over a long time by an entire culture, rather than in one stroke of brilliance by a single chef. There are a few different types from what I’ve seen so far. There are soupy-type dishes, made up of 1 to 5 types of vegetables or fruits, with a little meat and lots of broth. There are plates of fresh vegetables, sometimes sliced and sometimes chopped up. There are plates of grilled or fried meat, usually fish, and usually including the skin, head, bones, and tail. Finally, there is “Khmer Kimchi,” or pickled vegetables. Dessert is often fresh fruit.

4. Fruits and Vegetables. Some are familiar: Tomatoes, onions, garlic, ginger, cucumbers, lettuce, banana, watermelon, limes, lettuce. Some are tropical or asian: pineapple, ripe and unripe mango and papaya, passion fruit, bok choy. Some I have never heard of before: mangostien, rambatan, other fruits I don’t know English names for, unripe oranges, banana flower, water lily stem, Chinese broccoli, and various other greens and herbs.

5. Meat. Khmer people who have the means usually eat a good amount of meat (Navy and Ly’s house is, thankfully, an exception). They take far more advantage of their omnivore status than do most Westerners, including all parts of the chicken, pig, cow, and fish, as well as any seafood, amphibians, reptiles, insects, and in some cases, dogs and cats. Don’t worry, though. At least in Phnom Penh, people are quite sensitive to foreigners’ palates, and don’t usually expect you to eat anything too weird if you don’t want to.

6. Flavor. Khmer food is, thankfully for me, not terribly spicy. Instead of using curries, flavor comes from sour limes or unripe fruit, salt, herbs, limited chili peppers, and… “Cambodian cheese.” When you first see Cambodian cheese, you will probably be very confused. It is brown and sticky, and smells strongly. In fact, it is not a dairy product at all, but make from fermented fish. Khmer call it “cheese” because both cheese and fermented fish smell strongly. I think this must make more sense to Khmer than to Westerners :) Although I don’t think I’d be a huge fan of eating “Cambodian cheese” on its own, it definitely adds great flavor when mixed with other things.

7. Snacks and Desserts. Khmer have all sorts of great snack food, much of which involves rice and bananas, although some does not. A myriad of small sweet or savory treats have been given to me to try by my coworkers under the title of “Khmer cake.” Usually, they are made with sticky-rice or rice flour, and are sometimes filled with banana or beans. Wafers of deep-fried mini shrimp, sprinkled with lime and salt is one of my favorites. Bananas cooked in every possible way (fried, grilled, boiled) are also delicious. There are also many refreshing fruits and roots served cold, like watermelon, papaya, and other things I do not have English names for. Sour, unripe fruit like mango cut into thin strips and dipped in Khmer cheese or salt and spices is another popular snack. Dessert is the one place I have seen coconut milk come into play, often mixed with fruit, beans, or some sort of clear gel spheres which I assume are rice-based.

*The evening after I wrote this, I went out to a restaurant with my coworkers. We had a full meal, and wouldn’t have eaten any rice, except that I commented on this, and so one of my coworkers ordered some for me :) The rule actually runs thus: if you’re not eating rice, it’s not a meal – unless it’s a feast. Then, you don’t want to have rice to eat, because you can’t eat as much of everything else!