US, US, baby

I think the weirdest thing about Cambodia was the country’s use of US dollars. It’s not just that you could use them there, but it was really the preferred way to pay. Everything, from convenience-store snacks to mall clothes to park entrance fees was written in US dollars.

And it wasn’t just for the tourists, either…even in the not-for-tourist places (like the salon I got my hair done at…$20 for a perm and hair cut), all the prices were posted in dollars. I think the only place that didn’t request dollars was the open-air food market I went to. They told me the price in riel but didn’t care if I paid in riel or dollars.

As someone who never carried cash while in the US (why bother when you can pay by everything with your debit card?), my time in Cambodia was probably the most dollars I’d had on me in over a few years. Crazy!

But the best part of it all was that because everything is marked in US dollars, the exchange rate is pretty much nil, which is good news when our dollar ain’t doin’ so hot.

If you’re ever in Siem Reap, I highly recommend stopping by The Cambodia Land Mine Museum. As someone with a quite-limited knowledge of land mines and their effects, I couldn’t have been schooled on the subject in any better of a way.

If you don’t think you’ll ever make it there and still want to learn a little something, you can visit the museum’s website to learn about the use of land mines in Cambodia before, during, and after the bloody Khmer Rouge era. After that, you can always keep reading about the US’ involvement in Cambodia (including more secret bombings…sigh) before Khmer Rouge took over and what the Khmer Rouge is accused of doing…

The ruined temples at Angkor may just be the coolest thing I’ve seen on this trip (thanks to all who pushed me to go see them when I was just going to pass them up!). I even got up at 4 a.m. one day just to make sure I was there for sunrise. And if you know me at all, you know I’m definitely NOT a 4 a.m.-kind-of-girl. But, in retrospect, I admit, it was worth it.

And while spending three days there, I even had time to snap a couple of “senior picture” shots…

I’m pretty much an evil wench, but after teaching, cute kids who bat their eyes and plead with me rarely get my sympathy (or money). Instead, I’m annoyed that they’ve figured out manipulation at such an early age and wish I could meet their parents to discuss the child’s education.

At Angkor Wat yesterday, the place was swarming with these elementary-aged kids trying to sell their goods. Trying to interest me, one asked where I was from. “USA,” I replied making my way inside the complex.

“Oh! American! You’re from California, right?” asked the boy. Although I always tell people I’m from Missouri but have been living in California for the last four years, I agree, knowing that it’s partly true. After he learns he’s right, he proceeds to tell me, “The capitol of California is Sacramento. The governor is Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

I’m unimpressed. Tell me something I don’t know, kid. So I smile and ask him what he thinks of Arnold. He looks at me blankly. It’s clearly not part of his shtick, so annoyed at me, he just asks me to buy some of his postcards (”I don’t mail postcards,” I truthfully tell him).

On my way out, I’m stopped by another group of kids selling bracelets, water, and postcards. This time, it’s a girl who asks what state I’m from. “Missouri,” I reply. She stops in her tracks and gives me a sly look like I’ve just made up a word to throw her off. I turn and look at her and wait for her verbal reaction. Nada. “The capital is Jefferson City,” I tell her before continuing my exit as she keeps staring at me.

Maybe if I’d said “Missour-uh” instead of “Missour-ee” she would’ve been able to tell me my governor is Matt Blunt…

Random sidenote: I’m starting to think I actually will go back to calling my home state “Missour-uh.” Two reasons: When Europeans repeat my pronunciation, it always comes out sounding more like “misery” (and it’s definitely not). And, after a bit of online research, it seems that the Native American tribe my state was named after was spelled both Missouria and Missouri…which leads me to believe the correct pronunciation is actually “Missour-uh” but those French-influenced St. Louisians saw the “i” at the end of the second spelling and started pronouncing it like they would in French…

You know what Cambodians love? Wrestling. Not like the short-and-skinny-college-guys-in-unitards wrestling, either. But WWE wrestling.

On my first night in Phnom Penh, one of the guys in the restaurant turned on a fight and settled in to watch. Out of all the things on TV, I couldn’t believe he chose to watch that. But he did. Then the next day, I saw that a car in town had a wrestling sticker on its hood. Later, I found this recent Cambodia Daily article that talks about the sport’s following here. And tonight when I got out of the shower, guess what was on again (and is still on).

All this popularity and there’s not even Hulk Hogan* for them to watch…craziness.

*Embarrassing fact that I probably shouldn’t reveal about myself but will anyways: In Chiang Mai I went to a pub quiz night, and the only answers I could properly contribute to involved Hulk Hogan and Wham!

Even after living two blocks from the Strand for the past four years, I never rollerbladed on the famous beach boardwalk. I’m horrible at it and terribly clumsy. However, I always enjoyed sitting at any of the beaches or beach-front houses or restaurants and watching the people blade by. Usually it was only two groups of people who strapped on these boots for a skate on the Strand…either the die-hard South Bay For Life women who had been skating on the Strand since roller skates were the thing or the young Midwest or East Coast transplants who grew up rollerblading.

In Cambodia’s Phnom Penh, it’s obviously a different kind of person skating than what I’d gotten used to seeing in L.A. Still, though, the kids at the country’s only (for now) true mall, love it. And people love watching. As I’ve finally figured out how to upload video (which will I’m sure become a dangerous addiction in the future), I thought I’d record a bit of what I saw. It’s a pretty short clip, but I also wanted to make sure you could hear the music in the background. Ten points for the first person to name that song.

Thanks to my old job, I’ll probably stop to look at nail art for the rest of my life.

At a mall in Phnom Penh two days ago, I stopped to check out the art for one nail salon. Of course, they had lots of flowers and prints. But what I didn’t expect to see was a design incorporating the American flag. Really, are there a lot of Cambodian teens wanting to sport Old Glory on their nails?

Well, if not, they can always get the set with the Disney princesses…

I’m in the middle of a McDonald’s drought. There are no McDonald’s restaurants in Laos or Vietnam, so that’s why there’ve been no posts of Ronnie or any burgers. There are also no McDonald’s in Cambodia, so it looks like it will be about a month until you get to see the beefy side of my travels.

Sorry, Mel…