Man-o-gram #29

“Choul Moy” (cheers)

Welcome to Cambeerdia. The big billboards in Cambodia, in fact the only billboards – apart from those promoting the government, are for beer. The tired dusty tarpaulins adorning shanty’s and shacks are invariably old advertising hangs for beer. Krud 😂, Ganzberg, Cambodia, Anchor/Angkor, Tiger, all same same lagers but fit for it in this Cambodian heat.

I’ve been spoilt with 20 yrs of free guinness and top craft beers by Waiheke brewer Alan Knight.

Beer is big, community glue amongst the men who drink it by the slabs.

Orwell predicted we’d be forced into toeing the line, accepting the doublespeak of autocratic rule. Fellow commentator Aldous Huxley suggested we’d go there willingly, pleasuring ourselves on bread and circuses. Here in Cambodia beer and tiktok videos do Huxleys bidding nicely.

It’s said that tiktok, being of Chinese origin, uses different algorithms for it’s own users in China (educational/inspirational achievement based vids), but for the rest of the world it’s all dance videos and light entertainment. I love dance, I’m a zumba junkie, but you know, the octopus has many tentacles. Colonisation via smartphone. Jeez Baz, looking for love in all the wrong places 😝

A box of beers here is dirt cheap, the marketing is obviously well funded, and when the sun starts heading west, the tear tabs litter the ground. It’s not always but mostly a bloke thing, and a lot of khmer men make binge drinking kiwi blokes look like learners. Funny how getting pissed is such a biggie in our cultures.

Weeks back when I met the Stung Treng police chief up in the north of the country, there was no way out of not slamming at least a dozen cans that wouldn’t have been bad etiquette.

I rode past the chiefs party deck over the Mekong on my hire scooter the next night and the next and they were at it again. Every night, groundhog day for the liver.

Tuktuk drivers often beer up at the end of the day, it’s one of the connecting mediums these guys love. It’s when the rice wine comes out you know that tomorrow’s gonna be a bit on hold.

Sergio’s not a drinker, he’s popped a straw into his coconut and is giving me his take on living here. Originally from Russia, he apologises for that fact, in the same way Colin from South Carolina did about the politics of his homeland …. dudes it’s none of our faults, we are here sharing stories, hearts and the best of goodwill, not responsible for crap leadership.

He’s been 10 yrs in Cambodia, and is married to Chanda one of the women that run Jungle House. He can’t go back to Russia to visit family because he is 55, and every man 18 – 60 is conscripted. “Eeef Russia was to go to war with New Zeeeland, no problem, but Ukraine ! … these people are our brothers”.

Sergio offers some context for the drinking culture, “Cambodian’s don’t like to work too hard, they enjoy most best of company, getting together and singing, laughing …. it is easy living here, even if you don’t have much. Friends and family come first.”

I quizzed him bout Vietnam. “Cambodian’s are wary of Vietnamese, they are not so friendly, just want money money money – be careful there my friend”. Serge meant that in two ways, careful not to get my stuff stolen or ripped off, and careful to not ask too many questions.

“People will report you, sometimes record you on their phones in their pocket, go to police, police pay them $20 and they arrest you and lock you up … it’s a racket – do not talk politics or ask questions like you ask me.”

So I guess my blogs in Vietnam will be travel roundups, not too much analysis or reflection. There is high internet surveillance and they ban ‘Medium.com’ the blog portal I use, so I’ll try a different blog a/c and link it to facebook. If they firewall my fb a/c well … I’ll find a way, but I’ll keep it pretty happy happy joy joy cos I wanna not only get into the country, but get out as well.

This evening I passed on a beer and went for a run instead, catching a sunset on the Kep waterfront that’d give Piha a run for it’s money. Fishermen were sitting round on board the couple of boats that hadn’t left for the night fish, drinking Ganzberg, laughing and chatting.

Phnom Penh vans were filling empty waterfront spaces, families spilling out to rent hammocks or just sleep rough on their shoreside mats. Tomorrow will be mental, I’m there for sure, my last day in Cambodia. No run tomorrow, I’ll crash a hammock party with some beers.

Choul Moy !

Till next time :)