An Evening on the Town

My friend Daniel went crazy after returning from Japan and decided to have a blowout of organized fun one Saturday night.

First, he organized a sunset boat ride on the Mekong, a veritable Phnom Penh tradition. It was something I had been wanting and needing to do, and we made it happen. In fact, in Rough Guide it’s listed as the #1 thing not to miss in Cambodia. You can rent a 100ft long boat for like $20/hour, buy a lot of beer and food, and have a cookout on the boat. I met a lot of Daniel’s expat friends from the past few years, and I feel a lot more connected socially as a result.


Daniel and Deborah on the boat

After flowing down the Tonle Sap river (bordering Phnom Penh), we turned up the Mekong, past nearly-floating villages (tiny wooden shacks floating on the river next to the riverbank), and up to a spot for swimming. At that spot, we watched the sun shrink behind the Phnom Penh horizon in a mélange of pinks and oranges. The owners of the boat boiled about 50 crabs, which looked delicious but which I could sadly not enjoy. I jumped off the roof of the boat into the water, which is questionably sanitary (I had a rash on my leg for a few days afterwards, but no big deal). The river’s current was deceptively strong, but manageable. More than anything, splashing around with new friends in the last light of day on the Mekong River in Cambodia was thoroughly enjoyable. I’m pretty lucky to be here.


On the Boat


A group of Khmer fishing boats on the banks of the Mekong


A floating house, fishing canoes, and small wooden huts on the bank


A short video of the boat ride along the Mekong. I quite like the soundtrack of Neil Young's "Keep on Rockin' In the Free World" in the background. It provides a good summary of the contrasts and internal struggles of working as a foreigner here. Are the people living along the bank and/or on their fishing boats truly free? Certainly we, as foreigners on the boat who work in Cambodia, are operating with a degree of freedom to our actions that is unfathomable for the people living along the bank (and, indeed, for most Cambodians). With a foreigner salary, we can do and access and live in a manner that is quite unattainable for most Cambodians (I am making at least twice as much as the average middle class salary here, on a volunteer stipend!)

We can keep on rockin' freely, but what are we doing here? How beneficial is foreign NGO/IO presence in this country, and especially in Phnom Penh? How do we truly help, and not make our experience here overwhelmingly parasitic or voyeuristic? How much is our presence alleviating the structural impoverishment that these riverbank dwellers face on a daily basis?

These are vital issues that I struggle with and that try to come to terms with. Sometimes this happens by believing in the work I am doing, by hoping that this work is supporting those in need (and I believe it does) and also that it will engender personal growth so that I can better serve others in the future. Of course, sometimes I react through denial, and sometimes by accepting that a certain action is voyeuristic. But these issues are a fine line that we, as foreigners living in Cambodia and in many parts of the developing world, must confront daily--the balance is a tricky one.



Sunset over the Cambodiana Hotel

We returned to Phnom Penh with the lights from the new Naga Casino growing ever closer. After I grabbed a quick bite (being unable to eat the crabs and all), I headed over to see the best (and only) English-language band in Phnom Penh that plays original music. They call themselves Betty Ford and the GT Falcons, and they sound something like Television mixed with the Replacements. A bunch of them are friends with Daniel and were on the boat trip. I’ve become friends with the guitarist Matt, who’s from Australia (as are half of the expats here). In the last week, Matt has taken to calling me “Dynamic Lee,” which I quite enjoy.


Matt and Sean on the Boat


Betty Ford and the GT Falcolns Poster. Even Roger Ebert is a huge fan!

Anyway, the show was pretty surreal because it was at this bar called Zeppelin Café, which is owned by this middle-aged Cambodian who has about 700 LPs from 1972-1979 in the bar—hence the name and theme of the bar. It felt so much like a small bar/music venue in the US that it was quite disorienting. Of course, adding weight to this sentiment was the fact that there were not too many Cambodians at the show besides the bar’s owner (who would’ve thought—Cambodians not digging English rock music). A lot of expats came to the show, and although the sound mixing and acoustics were terrible, we all seemed to have a great time. Watch out, BFAGTF will take the US by storm soon!