On Wednesday we had the regular school field trip which this term was a visit to Sihanoukville,or to give it it's traditional name Kompong Som.
Arriving bleary eyed at the incredibly uncivilised hour of 5.45 a.m. at school, we set off predictably late on the supposed four hour journey south.
Although the drive was fairly uneventful,I can be fairly impatient sometimes and on an occasion like this need to reach my destination promptly and with no fuss.I hadn't accounted for the Khmer obssession with eating at any given opportunity,and we stopped at least once an hour for a multitude of junk food,amazing looking fruit and at one point a lot of live crab....how you are meant to eat this as a snack without any cooking utensils or even something to kill the unfortunate crustacean is beyond me.
So,arriving at least an hour later than we were planning too,and me smiling through gritted teeth trying not to behave like a cumudgeonly old man,the process of finding a suitable beach was embarked upon.We had intended to decamp at a beach named Otres and having traversed an incredibly bone shaking narrow road-a shock after the smoothness of National Route 4 all the way down,possibly Cambodias best road-having reached said beach we found that there was in fact no beach as either the tide was in or the sand had been stolen!We had to turn around and headed for Occheteal(sic)where mercifully everything was fine.Arranging three bus loads of tired students was our next task,and we all sat down for,you've guessed it,a meal.
The sea food in Cambodia's coastal towns is superb,and being a fan myself,I gorged on squid,crab and the biggest prawns you've seen in your life.Whilst eating under straw covered huts I spotted one of the best signs I have seen here.Normally I'm not a fan of deriding people for their attempts at giving information in a foreign language as after all how much Khmer can I speak.This particular sign however filled me with mirth and I actually thought the end result was far better.It was meant to say.."Please take your property with you" a fair enough request and was written in Khmer as well.What the sign actually said was..."Please take your poetry with you".I had visions of everyone finishing their lunch and settling down to write an ode to their loved ones and then carefully folding up the paper and taking it away with them.
After lunch and a suitable amount of digestion time I got my kit off and plunged into the briny sea.Cambodians of both sexes generally swim fully clothed to protect their modesty and their skin.....a particularly important thing here especially amongst women.It is frowned upon to have "black skin" and every effort is made to cover up so who knows,perhaps Cambodians were aware of the dangers of skin cancer long before we were.We all had a good time and I tried to teach a few rudimentary swimming lessons as a large number of the kids could not swim.Which made the fact that before we knew what was happening several of them had jumped on a banana boat,a plastic sausage shaped,air filled creation that is pulled at great speeds by a power boat,and were off into the deep blue yonder.No safety gear and one life jacket between six made me nervous to say the least,and after a heart stopping few minutes there were some stern words said on their return.
We set off home at about 4 p.m. after a long and troubling argument with the driver.It turned out that he had brought a couple of friends/relatives along for the ride and someone had anonymously phoned his boss who threatened to fire him as this was strictly forbidden.This combined with the fact that nobody had bought him lunch(a terrible offence)had turned him into a seething animal.Our esteemed director stood there not saying a word as this guy responsible for many young people threatened to drive like Lewis Hamilton and in the process scared many of the kids.A few of them came up to me and said they wanted to go on another bus and this was one occasion where my lack of Khmer was a big disadvantage,as I really wanted to say something but felt powerless.Anyway,good old Mr.Dakun,a born negotiator if ever I saw one,made his way over from another bus took the situation by the scruff of the neck,phoned the driver's boss and smoothed things over to the point where everyone was all smiles and I was able to shake the man's hand and give him a hearty pat on the back.
We came back tired but content,smelling of salty sea and I had the same feeling I used to get when I was a kid and my grandparents used to take us to the beach for the day at Saltdean or Hove.If I thought that was the end of the drama I was badly mistaken.After more stops...a blown out tire on one of the buses.I have no idea where we were but all I know was that it was pitch black,the middle of nowhere and only a flashlight was available to replace the tire.Thirty minutes later this was acheived while we stood on the roadside and I tried to stop people being smashed into by the occasional truck that zoomed by and seemed to be the only kind of vehicle on the road at this time of day.
Phnom Penh draws nearer and by now I'm exhausted,but wouldn't you know it a huge accident involving a gasoline truck(!!!)and a motorbike has virtually blocked the road and it takes the arrival of the police to get us moving again after what seemed an interminable delay.9.00p.m. and we are back,but even then my motodop driver who says he'll wait for me while I buy some water for a few minutes disappears upon my re-emergence from the shop.Oh dear!! Get me to my bed.A highly enjoyable and memorable day,but that last couple of hours felt like ten!