C
ambodia presents a few problems for people traveling
with children. All those skulls at the Killing Fields
near Phnom Penh will induce nightmares, and hiking
untold acres o f stone t emples near Siem Reap could
elicit as much whining as wonder. But 30 km beyond Angkor
Wat is an exquisite mountain region of waterfalls, ancient wreckage and riverb ed carvings that leave visitors of any age in awe,
although trying to explain the thousand stone phalluses to the
youngsters might present a challenge.
Getting to Phnom Kulen is a bit of an adventure in itself. While
not necessarily off-ro ading, there
was about ten miles of dirt road,
recently graded, that went from
two lanes to a single lane pretty
rapidly. In the rainy reason, however, parts o f the road would be
impassable to a vehicle without
fou r-wh eel drive.
It is beautiful. It is in the mountains, and like so many places in
Asia there is a mysteriousness to
the mountains. In Southeast Asia,
they are where people who don't
cultivate wet rice dwell, this being a major civilization divide
through insular and mainland
Southeast Asia alike. Mountains
are not the paddy; they are wild,
undomesticated, foreign. This
means that unlike most other
places, they have not been bared
The cult established him as the supreme ruler o f the land, and
therefo re he succeeded in unifying the country. But Hindu civilization had existed already for centuries in the region; the fact
that Jayavarman was the second monarch to carry that name was
an indication that there had been a powerful king of an earlier
epoch.
This is also near the river head o f the Siem Reap River. In the
bedrock o f the river are carved hundreds of linga images. There
are also some minor ruins. It was not long after the decl aration
of indep enden ce that Jayav arman moved his capitol, not yet to
Angkor but to what is known today as the Rolous Group, among
the oldest temples with the Angkor area.
Phnom Kulen is also a national park, and it houses a few very
impressive waterfalls. On the weekends, it is very popular with
Cambodians. However, if you'd like the place to yourself fo r at
least a little while, try arriving by 9:00AM on a weekday. It is
about 55 KM from Siem Reap, and the trip takes anywhere from
an hour to ninety minutes. By 11:00AM on our last visit a few
Cambodian holiday-makers showed up, and by noon foreign
tourists began to pour in also.
The waters hold special religious significance for Hindus, thanks
to the carvings commissioned by Jayavarman II. The despot ordered part of the river divert ed temporarily so that hundreds of
phallic images could be carv ed into the sandstone floors along a
of their forests and still are wild even if one sees paths penetrating them or gathers taking what they are allowed from the controlled forests, like fallen limbs and plant resins.
Phnom Kulen is where the Angkorian era “ offici ally” began,
with Jayavarman II initiated the cult of the king, a linga cult, in
what is dated as 804 CE and declaring his independence from
Java o f whom the Khm er had Photobucketb een a v assalag e state
(whether this is actually "Java" or "Lava" (a Lao kingdom) is
debated, as well as the legend that he was earlier held as a ransom of the kingdom in Java. See Higham's The Civilization of
Angkor for more inform ation about the debate). An inscription
from the Sdok Kak Thom temple recounts that on the top of the
Kulen Hills, Jayavarman instructed a Brahman priest named Hiranhad ama to conduct a religious ritual known as the cult of the
devajara which placed him as a ch akrav artin, universal monarch.
shady brook area. These lingams, which actually look
no more raunchy than rounded bumps, are surrounded by square outlines that represent the vulva,
as per Hindu tradition. Tourists can slosh right into
the shallow river to touch or photograph the sculptures through the flowing water.
The water becomes holy by passing over this area
before moving downstream to a series of tiered waterfalls. At the top, where Jayavarman II chose to
bathe, he again had the river diverted so that the
stone bed could be carved with an elaborate rend ering of the Hindu god Vishnu. Vishnu is laying on the
serpent Anant a, with his wife Lakshmi at his feet and
a lotus flower protrudes from his navel bearing the
god Brahma. Visitors can walk into the water to take
pictures but are instructed not to touch the underwater carvings.
The river then drops about 4 m to a landing where
court o fficials bath ed. Beyond that, the water cas cades another 20 m and creates a pool wh ere th e
masses once washed. As in the days of Elizabeth an
theater in London, when the best seats in the house (those closest
to the stage) were inexplicably given to peasants, the Khmer
commoners enjoyed the most beautiful section o f the cas cad es,
where a majestic sunlit waterfall streams through dense jungle
growth. Today, Khmer families pass leisurely afternoons here:
children frolic, and Buddhist monks crouch along the river
downstream to wash their orange robes.
Buddhists co-opted Phnom Kulen as a holy site of their own
after the Hindu heyd ay. A 10-minute car rid e up the mountain
brings tourists to Preah Ang Tho, a 16th century Buddhist mon-
tery factory. Shards of jars and fragments of sculptures are everywhere, seemingly untouched by archaeologists. Instead, amateurs, in the form o f residents from nearby villages, have tried
putting pieces together, standing them up against dead trees.
astery notable for the giant reclining Buddha carved into the top
of a 20-m boulder. Climb the rickety wooden staircase to a landing that surrounds the 17-m-long Buddha, where monks and
believers bow, burn incense and leave fruit.
The last major site on Phnom Kulen takes a bit of perseveran ce
and imagination to enjoy. From the base of Preah Ang Tho, hire
a motorbike driver for a challenging ride deep into the jungle
wilderness (cost: about $10). He'll take you to a clearing that
was home, about 1,000 years ago, to an Angkorian Period pot-
By Max Lunchtime
n September 2001, an unwary worker widening an irrigation ditch
in Svay Rieng, struck not mud but metal. He pulled a rusted ammunition canister from the ground and discovered inside more
than 600 pages of documents detailing the activities of the British
Mission in Cambodia in the 1950s. Wrapped tightly in plastic and
bound with a strap made fro m banana leaf were minutes of meetings,
schedules, staff rosters, reports, MI5 carbon papers and motor pool
chits.
Sometimes typed, sometimes meticulously hand-written, the documents tell of a mission in confusion as the Old Guard of the Foreign
Service fought a losing battle with the New Egalitarianism of the P ostWar era. Meanwhile colonialism was collapsing about their ears.
Added together with later interviews of former local staff me mbers,
these documents tell the stories of the Embassy’ s Ghosts.
The Story So Far:
Butch Benbow, the Naval Attaché at the British Mission, has been taking reincarnation lessons by post. His guru, an Indian Swami, will soon
come to Phnom Penh to study spiritual progress first-hand. Butch fears
the reaction from the Corps and the Press should he be spotted in the
company of a man-in-a-loin-cloth. What’s more, rather than living on
the prescribed diet of raw goat’s milk, Butch
has turned to the hard-ship posting staple of
sweetened condensed touched up with
Gordon’s Dry…
But if he was pale now, my colleague, he was
a great deal paler that afternoon as he got into
the official car and set off for the International Airport to meet his swami. I didn’ t
blame him. The dew of death had settled on
his somewhat receding brow. The poor chap
could see himself socially dished as well as
spiritually pooped.
Imagine his relief, however, when
out of the aircraft stepped—not a naked Dravidian leading a quarantined goat—but the
most poised and charming of Indian princelings, clad in beautifully cut clothes and wearing a turban with an emerald the size of a
goitre in it. Anaconda Veranda was perfectly
delightful, a Man of the World, a Gentleman.
Butch nearly fainted with relief when he listened to his perfect English, his exquisite
English—rather better than Butch’s own
brand of the stuff. Could this be the swami he
so much dreaded?
Butch swooned back in his car muttering prayers of thanksgiving. By the time he reached the Embassy with his swami he was a
changed man. He was swollen with pride, gloating almost.
I must say that I found Veranda—everyone found him—
perfectly delightful. It seems that he had been at Oxford with all of
us—though strangely enough nobody remembered him. But he was as
unbashfully Balliol as it is possible to be. And for from receiving the
acid drop Butch found himself the most sought-after man in the Corps.
All because of his swami. Veranda danced beautifully, was modest,
wise, witty and gentle; he also played the flute to distraction which
endeared him frightfully with Smythe-Ewing. He was even spiritually
accommodating and let Butch know that in certain stages of spiritual
development the odd touch of gin in unsweetened condensed is just the
job and has the unofficial approval of the Dalai Lama. Butch was in
ecstasies. So were we all.
Veranda did quite a bit of drawing-room occultism, turning
tables and telling fortunes until the Ladies of the Corps were almost
mad with flattery and apprehension. He hypnotized Drage and took an
I
endless succession of hard-boiled eggs out of his nose. He predicted
Collin’s appointment to China. He told Dovebasket the size of his overdraft to two places decimals. My dear chap, he was a Man of P arts. In
next to no time he had most of the Ambassadresses pleading openly for
spiritual instruction while Heads of Mission, mad with envy, were cabling their head office for swamis to be sent out on approval by air
freight. Smythe-Ewing even conceived the idea of creating a special post
of Senior Spiritual Adviser to the Embassy and appointing Veranda to it.
Just to keep him with us. But I think the Chaplain intervened and quashed
the idea. Smythe-Ewing sulked a good deal after this.
Well, for a whole season Veranda occupied the social spotlight,
to our intense pride, He dined here, he dined there. He was put up for the
O. B. E. and the Croix de Guerre—and quite a lot of other decorations.
As a social draw he was unequalled, a human magnet. And of course
Butch went up to the top of the class. He had to engage a private secretary to keep his now bulging Engagements Book and head off mere
climbers with the Retort Civil (but Cutting). He was a happy man.
But now comes the denouement—which poor Smythe-Ewing
probably refers to as “ the pay-off” nowadays. I must say that Veranda
must have made a close social study of the Corps and its movements. He
chose one of those ghastly holidays—was it Labour Day? —when he
could be sure that the whole Corps was sitting on a dais in the main square just in front
of the P alace, perspiring freely and watching
the infantry defile—if that's the word.
Yes, it was beautifully conceived,
perfectly timed. He started by borrowing the
official car and a dozen of De Mandeville’s
pigskin suitcases. In leisurely fashion, and
with that irresistibly endearing smile which
had won so many friends and influenced so
many people—he made a tour of the Embassies cleaning them out with judgement and
discretion.
Such selectivity, old man. Only the best
seemed to be good enough. Just the top jewelry like Smythe-Ewing’s dress studs, Angela’s tiara . . . the top treasures like the
original Leonardo drawings in the Argentine
Legation, the two Tiepolos chez the Italians,
the first edition of Hamlet in Spalding’ s library, the two Mycenaean brooches of the
Japanese Ambassadress. He even took Nelson’s Dress Sword which was Butch’ s only
real treasure and on which he always made
toast in the winter. And with all this stuff
safely stowed in his saddle-bags the fellow evaporated, snuffed himself
out, dematerialized. . . .
Well, old boy, you can imagine the rumpus. What an eruption!
At first one hardly believed it. Surprised! You could have sluiced us
down with frangipani. Many was the hanging head, many the pallid
glance. P oor Butch found himself at the bottom of the form again—so did
we all. For this terrible house-guest had become fir mly identified with
our Mission. I don’t know how we lived through the next few months.
Butch’ s swami was never traced, nor was any single item fro m all this
cultural boodle. Somewhere among the bazaars of India these treasures
must be on sale. One blenches to think of it.
It took Butch years to live down his swami. But the worst of it
all was that he never finished his reincarnation course; somehow he hadn’ t the heart to go on. Nor has he ever had the heart or the social courage
to try another swami. And as he hasn’ t mastered the drill he lives—so I
understand fro m co mmon friends—in perpetual terror of being reincarnated as a soldier.
(to be continued next month)
The waves lapping at the shoreline are putting me in a far too
mellow mood to write this. And what the hell are we doing in
Snooky? It’s about time the page made its way back to Phnom
Penh, and fo r the most part it shall be. Shit let me roll another.
That done and at least I’ve discovered that the sun has dipped
low enough that I can get out of the beach hut and back onto
the sand without my reddened skin screaming complaints. In
fact I’ll take a moment to tell you how the soon to be setting
sun is at just the perfect height to be bathing everything in a
glow equaled only in softness my the light sand beneath my
feet. Smooth tunes from my laptop play as I look out to a near
empty ocean a huge beer craving hits.
That’s it. Satiated by the first gulp, and a smile creep ing on to my lips with the second it’s time to peer back into the
past couple of months, the time in which I’ve been back in
Cambodia. It’s all a bit of a blur, but let’s first find ours elves at
the Lost Room, seems apt. Navigationally it could well prove
to be too, we took a number of twists and turns through pretty
dark streets to arrive at the fairly nondescript entrance, luckily I
was with folk who knew wh ere they were going. As the gate
was pulled back a lively world inside was revealed behind a
fu rther glass door. We wouldn’t be partaking of that world, as
convivial and air-conditioned as it appeared as it was also void
of smoke and ashtrays, we would remain in the courtyard at a
long table already prepared for our res ervation.
We were quickly seated, and a first round of drinks
was not far behind. A sparkling Cava, why not. Ours was the
only table outside, inside a couple of rows o f tables allowed the
seating to be flexible for the groups and couples already partak ing of menu choices that included duck in pomegranate sauce,
Moroccan spiced lamb, fish fillet in star anise sauce, and an
already sold out imported Ameri can beef fillet. These dishes,
and indeed the rest o f the menu, are all serv ed in tapas style
portions, to be enjoyed shared. The small kitchen sends them
out a few at a time allowing guests to go on a journey of flavours of world cuisine. We started with scallops on the half
shell, or as the French would say amused our mouths. Four
small scallops neatly topped with a sliver o f chili certainly
tasted great, but worri ed me with reg ards to the portion size.
The fish in cream anise sauce arrived aft er though and was of
decent size, for tapas, and was delightful in flavour. The lamb
and duck mentioned befo re were both wond erful and there was
also a tasty pork belly dish, and some vegetable sides. You can
probably tell I liked it, the food is fresh, well prepared and con tains subtle and interesting flavour combinations, the atmosphere is warm and the hosts welcoming. Price wise it’s cer-
tainly above average, but for the right occasion or wallet it’s a
great place to get lost.
Otres beach in Sihanoukville is definitely another o f
those places, it’s the next morning now and staying at the far end
in a hut converted from a wood en boat right on the beach is about
as far away as possible from the next place I need to recall, Naga
World Casino. We were on the way back from a friends wedding
on Koh Pic, congratulations Dara and Chenda, and decid ed to
drop into the casino on the way back. After failing to find any
lucky numbers on the roulette table we ended up heading to Darlin
Darlin club. A club with a name nearly ridiculous enough to prevent me from going there, still when you want a drink you go to a
bar. So there we stand at a table just next to the stage, waiting to
be seated, a maitre de o f sorts running around in a suit scouting
out a table for us, a tall by western standards waitress fetching our
drinks.
I’d ordered a dirty martini “We only have Dry Martini”.
Ok then so I’ll have a dry Martini and put in some of the olive
juice, and three olives. The drinks were served as we got seated at
the other side of the stage. Our seats, and the brief walk to them
allowed me to take in the rather diverse crowd. The sexy young
girls on the dance floor and the big fat suited business men made
it feel like an over priced Martini Bar, the Korean school kids in
the corner playing ro ck, paper, and scissors didn’t. Glancing away
from the crowd up to the stage the Philippine singers were putting
on a good show. We stayed for just the one drink, perhaps unsurprisingly for a casino bar it’s a place for those with money to
burn.
Keeping it pricey next stop Rahu, the new Metro, a contemporary Jap anes e dining experi ence. Actually went here fo r a
late thanksgiving dinner, I was with Americans who were celebrating it anyway. The place has much the feel o f Metro with dark
cool colours and materi als creating a calming atmosphere. After
11pm it’s half price sushi and saki, we arrived at a minute past.
Buoyed by their promotion we ordered every sushi on the list,
with the exception of the cucumber one. The list didn’t look that
long, but a procession of pl ates was b rought upon us. Each neatly
prepared and sumptuously filled. Sake, sake, sake was pretty tasty
too as much as I can remember it. The bill at the end of all this fun
was hefty, even at hal f price, the quality however couldn’t be
faulted.
Here’s wishing you a prosperous new year of feasting in
Phnom Penh’s more excessive eateries, drinking in its salubrious
or not so bars, and well from where I’m sitting I’d highly recommend escaping to some coastal paradise once in a while too.
Officer Earl is a happy-go-lucky guy, with his fine gemstone ring
and gold chain necklace shining brightly in the afternoon sun.
All this on a salary of $20- no wonder he is happy- he’s learned
the art of budget stretching.
Officer Earl’s turf is a small slice of Norodom Boulevard, just
north of the Indep enden ce Monument’s gigantic traffi c circle.
Because h e is such a h appy guy, Earl will smile peacefully as
cars and motorcycles ignore and cross over the double yellow
line that separates the no rth-south flow o f traffic. Motorists driving carelessly the wrong way and moving head-on towards approaching traffi c? Not a problem, nothing out of the ordinary
there as that’s how Officer Earl gets home from work himself.
Cars and motorcycles turning onto Norodom from side streets at
high speed without glancing to see i f it’s safe, thereby triggering
major defensive driving maneuv ers from the appro aching and
unoffending motorists? No problem, that’s how
Earl comes back to his patrol post after his 3hour afternoon Karaok e break.
The thought that has Officer Earl smiling so
much these days- as he admires his jewelry
and the brand-spanking-new Honda
Dream that he uses to get to the new
home that he just had built- is that
he knows that he will get to meet
and make friends with many new
people each & everyday. Earl is a
real people-p erson. Earl and his
other buddies in blue recently pooled
together their thinking resources and came up with an idea to
make even more new fri ends.
What they like to do is gather their little group under the shade
of one o f the boulevard’s nearby trees. There is also an outside
wall of a nearby villa at hand and i f th ey play the shadows &
angles provided by both the wall and the tree just right, they can
usually avoid being spotted by motorists until they figure the
timing is right to leap out onto the road and make a new friend.
Obviously the above listed driving maneuvers hardly offer an
offi cer o f the law a reasonable opportunity to stop passersby to
get to know them. What really bends these guys out of shape and
gets them jumping into action is when a motorist does not signal
his intention to get off the nearby traffi c circle to head north on
Norodom Blvd. Let’s see, it’s okay to angle recklessly across
oncoming traffic with no turn signal, or come barreling around a
corner from a side street without looking or signaling, but it’s not
okay to basically go straight through a v ery wide traffi c circle
without signaling that you are turning, even though you don’t
really turn. Like I said, these are just fri endly guys that have had
to come up with new ideas to make new friends. Fair enough.
So after completely ignoring Offi cer Earl and his friends the
first time they leapt out at my motorcycle, just after my felonious failure to signal my non-turn, I saw the look of hurt in Earl’s
eyes as he realized that I was just another unfriendly foreign er
who thought he was too good to make friends with him and his
buddies. Not really knowing at the time what atro city that I and
others had committed that had these guys wanting to introduce
themselves to us, I decided to stop by next time through and
show them that we can all be brothers.
Officer Earl was beaming as I pulled over to the curb and shut
off my motorcycle. He then chuckl ed
while pointing to my turn signal and
said that my failure to use it was
very dangerous to others, as this very
thing was the cause o f untold misery
and heartache fo r his fellow Cambodians, post Pol Pot era. I smiled back
and thanked him fo r being kind
enough to take the time to meet me
and telling me how to avoid the dangers of his country, but told him that I
really didn’t think that I had broke any
actual traffic laws. His smiling reply was,
“Well you stopped, didn’t you?
Therefore you must have known that
you were guilty of breaking a law”. I
knew at that point that Earl was way ahead o f me in the logic
department, so I smiled and bid him farewell. Being the natural
host that he is, Earl would have none of that, at least not until I
negotiated a friendship gi ft fo r him and the other boys. After all,
the other boys were still only in the design phase of their new
houses.
Of course the next time I approached their traffi c beat I dutifully signaled my non-turn from the traffi c circl e, only to have a
brightly smiling Earl jump out in front o f my motorcycl e and
direct me back to the curb. I pointed out my flashing turn signalwhich he hadn’t even bothered to look at because the boys just
automatically figure that nobody is stupid enough to actually do
it- and aft er he glanced at it he slowly turned to look at my face.
His smile widened even more as recognition came over him.
“ Uhhh…my friend”, he muttered.
Sure, we are the b est o f buddies now and he has the small piece
of p aper with the king’s picture on it that I gave him to prove it.
Earl then pointed to the north on Norodom Boulevard and bid
me a very fond farewell.
Gingrich, Israel and the Palestinians
What a bizarre lot these Republican aspirants for the US presidency are!
What a sorry bunch of ignoramuses and downright crazies. Or, at
best, what a bunch of cheats and cynics! (With the possible exception of the good doctor Ron Paul)”.
Is this the best a great and proud nation can produce? How
frightening the thought that one of them may actually become
the most powerful person in the world, with a finger on the biggest nuclear button!
Let’s concentrate on the present front-runner. (Republicans
seem to change front -runners like a fastidious beau changes
socks.)
It’s Newt Gingrich. Remember him? The Speaker of the House
who had an extra-marital affair with an intern while at the same
time leading the campaign to impeach President Bill Clinton for
having an affair with an intern.
But that’s not the point. The point is that this intellectual giant –
named after Isaac Newton, perhaps the greatest scientist ever –
has discovered a great historical truth.
The original Newton discovered the Law o f Gravity. Newton
Gingrich has discovered something no less earth-shaking: there
is an “invented” people around, referring to the Palestinians.
To which a humble Israeli like me might answer, in the best Hebrew slang: “ Good morning, Eliyahu!” Thus we honor people
who have made a great discovery which, un fortun ately, has been
discovered by others long befo re.
From its very beginning, the Zionist movement has denied the
existence o f the Palestinian people. It’s an article of faith.
The reason is obvious: if there exists a Palestinian people, then
the country the Zionists were about to take over was not empty.
Thus entailing an injustice of historic proportions. Being very
idealistic persons, the Zionists found a way out of this moral
dilemma: they simply denied its existence. The winning slogan
was “ A land without a people for a people without a land.”
So who were these curious human beings they met when they
came to the country? Oh, ah, well, they were just people who
happened to be there, but not “ a” people. Passers-by, so to speak.
Later, the story goes, after we h ad made the d esert bloom and
turned an arid and neglected land into a paradise, Arabs from all
over the region flocked to the country, and now they hav e the
temerity – indeed the chutzpah – to claim that they constitute a
Palestinian nation!
For many years aft er the founding o f th e State o f Israel, this was
the offi cial line. Golda Meir famously exclaimed: “ There is no
such thing as a Palestinian people!”
A huge propagand a machine – both in Israel and abroad – was
employed to “ prove” that there was no Palestinian people. A lady
called Joan Peters wrote a book (“From Time Immemorial”)
proving that the riffraff calling themselves “ Palestinians” had
nothing to do with Palestine. They are nothing but interlopers
and impostors. The book was immensely successful – until some
experts took it apart and proved that the whole edi fi ce o f con clusive proofs was utter rubbish.
Many people have spent many hundreds of hours trying to convince Israeli and foreign audi ences that there is a Palestinian
people and that we hav e to make peace with them. Until one day
the State of Israel recognized the PLO as the sole representative
of the “ Palestinian people”, and the argument was laid to rest.
Until Newt came along and, like a later-d ay Jesus, raised it from
the dead.
Obviously he is much too busy to read books. True, he was once
a teach er o f history, but for many years now he has been very
busy speakering the Congress, making a fortune as an “ adviser”
of big corporations and now trying to become president.
Otherwise, he would probably have come across a brilliant historical book by Benedict Anderson, “ Imagined Communities”,
which asserts that all modern nations are invented.
Nationalism is a relatively recent historical phenomenon. When
a community decides to become a nation, it has to reinvent itself. That means inventing a national past, reshuffling historical
facts (and non-facts) in order to create a coherent picture o f a
nation existing since antiquity. Hermann the Cherusker, member
of a Germanic tribe who betray ed his Roman employers, became
a “ national” hero. Religious refug ees who landed in America
and destroyed the n ative population became a “ nation”. Members of an ethnic-religious Diaspora fo rmed themselves into a
“Jewish nation”. Many others did more or less the same.
Indeed, Newt would pro fit from reading a book by a Tel Aviv
University professor, Shlomo Sand, a kosher Jew, whose Hebrew title speaks for itsel f: “ When and How the Jewish People
was Invented?”
Who are these Palestinians? About a hundred years ago, two
young students in Istanbul, David Ben-Gurion and Yitzhak BenZvi, the future Prime Minister and President (respectively) o f
Israel, wrote a treatise about the Palestinians. The population of
this country, they said, has never chang ed. Only small elites
were sometimes depo rted. The towns and villages never moved,
as their names prove. Canaanites became Israelites, then Jews
and Samaritans, then Christian Byzantines. With the Arab conquest, they slowly adopted the religion of Islam and the Arabic
Culture. These are today’s Palestinians. I tend to agree with
them.
Parroting the straight Zionist propaganda line – by now discard ed by most Zionists – Gingrich argues that there can be no
Palestinian people because there never was a Palestinian state.
The people in this country were just “ Arabs” under Ottoman
rule.
So what? I used to hear from French colonial masters that there
is no Algerian people, because there never was an Algerian
state, there was nev er even a united country called Algeria. Any
takers for this theory now?
The name “ Palestine” was mentioned by a Greek historian some
2500 years ago. A “Duke of Palestine” is mentioned in the Talmud. When the Arabs conquered the country, they called it
“Filastin”, as they still do”. The Arab national movement came
into being all over the Arab world, including Palestine – at the
same time as the Zionist movement – and strove for independence from the Ottoman Sultan.
For centuries, Palestine was considered a part o f Greater Syria
(the region known in Arabic as ‘Sham’). There was no formal
distinction between Syrians, Lebanese, Palestinians and Jordanians. But when, after the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, the
European powers divided the Arab world between them, a state
called Palestine became a fact under the British Mandate, and
the Arab Palestinian people established themselves as a s eparate
nation with a national flag o f their own. Many peoples in
Europe, Asia, Africa and Latin America did the same, even
without asking Gingrich for con firmation.
It would certainly be ironic if the members of the “invented”
Palestinian nation were exp ect ed to ask for recognition from the
members of the “ invented” Jewish/Israeli nation, at the demand
of a member o f the “ invented” American nation, a person who,
by the way, is of mixed German, English, Scottish and Irish
stock.
Years ago, there was short-lived controversy about Palestinian
textbooks. It was argued that they were anti-Semitic and incited
to murder. That was laid to rest when it became clear that all
Palestinian schoolbooks were cleared by the Is raeli occupation
authorities, and most were inherited from the previous Jordanian
regime. But Gingrich does not shrink from resurrecting this
corpse, too.
All Palestinians – men, women and children – are terrorists, he
asserts, and Palestinian pupils learn at school how to kill us poor
and helpless Israelis. Ah, what would we do without such stout
defend ers as Newt? What a pity that this week a photo of him,
shaking the hand of Yasser Arafat, was published.
And please don’t show him the textbooks used in some of our
schools, especially the religious ones!
Is it really a waste of time to write about such nonsense?
It may seem so, but one cannot ignore the fact that the dispenser
of these inanities may be tomorrow’s President of the United
States of Ameri ca. Given the economic situation, that is not as
unlikely as it sounds.
As for now, Gingrich is doing immense damage to the national
interests of the US. At this historic juncture, the masses at all the
Tahrir Squares across the Arab wo rld are wond ering about
America’s attitude. Newt’s answer contributes to a new and
more pro found anti-Ameri canism.
Alas, he is not the only extreme rightist seeking to embrace Israel. Israel has lately becom e the Mecca of all the world’s racists. This week we were honored by the visit of the husband of
Marine Le Pen, leader of the French National Front. A pilgrimage to the Jewish State is now a must for any aspiring fascist.
One of our ancient sages coined the phrase: “ Not for nothing
does the starling go to the raven. It’s because they are o f the
same kind”.
Thanks. But sorry. They are not of my kind.
To quote another proverb: With friends like these, who needs
enemies?
Codifying Big Brother
Congressional Tyranny, White House Surrender
Paraphrasing Shakespeare, something is rotten in the state of
Capitol Hill. A majority of Congress is just about to put the finishing touches on an amendment to the military budget authorization legislation that will finish off some critical American
rights under our Constitution.
Here is how two retired 4 star marine generals, Charles C. Krulak and Joseph P. Hoar, described in the New York Times the
stripmining of your freedom to resist tyranny in urging a veto by
President Obama:
“ One provision would authorize the military to indefinitely
detain without charge people suspected of involvement with
terrorism, including United States citizens appreh ended on
American soil. Due process would be a thing of the past….
“ A second provision would mandate military custody for most
terrorism suspects. It would force on the military responsibilities
it hasn’t sought”….”for domestic law en forcement….”
“ A third provision would further extend a ban on transfers
from Guantanamo, ensuring that this morally and financially
expensive symbol of detainee abuse will remain open well into
the future.”
All of Obama’s leading military and security offici als oppose
this codification of the ultimate Big Brother power. Imagine
allowing the government to deny people accused o f involvement
with terrorism (undefined), including U.S. citizens arrested
within the United States, the right to a trial by jury. Imagine al-
lowing indefinite imprisonment for those accus ed without even
pro ffering charges ag ainst them. Goodbye 5th and 6th Amendments.
On some government agency’s unbridled order: just pick them
up, arrest them without charg es and thro w them into the military
brig indefinitely. This atrocity deserves to be repeat edly condemned loudly throughout the land by Americans who believe in
the rights of due pro cess, habeas co rpus, right to confront your
accus ers, right to a jury trial—in short, liberty and the just rule of
law.
Some stalwart lawyers are speaking out soundly: They include
Georgetown Law
Professor, David Cole, George Washington University Law Professor, Jonathan Turley, Republican lawyer, Bruce Fein, former
American B ar Associ ation (2005-2006) president, Michael
Greco, and the always alert lawyers at the civil liberties groups.
Their well-grounded outcries are not awak ening the citizenry.
Where are the one million lawyers? Where are the thousands of
law pro fessors? Where are the scores o f law school deans? Are
they not supposed to be our first constitutional responders?
Where is the Tea Party and its haughty rhetoric about the sanctity
of constitutional liberty? Most of the Tea caucus voted fo r tyranny. Presidential candidate, Rep. Ron Paul has been an outspoken critic of this attack on our civil liberties.
The majority also voted to ratify a dictatorial procedure in the
Congress, as well. This indefinite, arbitrary, open-ended dictatorial White House mandate was never subjected to even a House
or Senate Committee hearing, and was not explained with any
rationale known as legislative “ findings.” It was rammed through
by the House and Senate Armed Services Committees without
the Judiciary and Intelligen ce Committees invoking their concurrent jurisdiction for public hearings.
So extreme are these majority Congressional extremists, composed of both Republicans and reneg ade Democrats, the latter led
by Senator Carl Levin, that the Obama Administration has to
lecture them about the fundament al American principle that “ our
military does not patrol our streets.”
It is not as if the imperial presidencies of Bush and Obama need
any more encourag ement and legitimization to continue on their
lawless paths to criminal wars of aggression, unlawful surveillance, arbitrary slayings of innocents, wrongful imprisonments,
and unauthorized spending. Instead of Congress using its constitutional authority regarding the war, appropri ations and investigative powers, it form alizes its impotence by handing the “ go for
it” power to the Executive branch with the vaguest of langu age
boundaries.
Usually there are a few Senato rs whose up front defens e o f our
Constitution would lead them to stand tall against the “Senate
Club” and put a “ hold” on this pernicious amendment. Civil libertari ans hope that, before the final Senate vote in the rush to get
home fo r the Holidays, Senators Rand Paul, Tom Harkin, Al
Franken, Richard Blumenthal, Ron Wyden, Bernie Sanders, Jeff
Merkley, Tom Coburn or Mike Lee would step forth.
A “ hold” could spark the demand for public hearings and floor
debate to give the American people the time and information to
react and ask themselves “ how dare Congress tak e away our
most fundamental rights?”
President Obama initially threatened to veto the entire bill and
make Congress drop these p ernicious dictates that so insult the
memory and vision of our founding fathers. He is already signaling that he doesn’t have the backbone to reject the false choi ce
“between our safety and ou r ideals,” that he asserted in his In augural Address.
Thought for the Day: A
Pun Is Its Own Reword
T
hree men are sitting in a room smoking cannabis. After a
few spliffs they run out of gear. One of the men stands
up and says
'Look, we've got loads more tobacco, I'll just nip into the
kitchen and make one of my speciality spliffs.'
Off he goes into the kitchen where he takes some Cumin,
Turmeric and a couple o f other spices from the spice rack,
grinds them up and rolls them into a spliff. On his return he
hands it to one of his smoking partners who lights it and
takes a long drag. Within seconds he passes out. Ten minutes
go by and he is still out cold, so the others decide to take him
to hospital. On arrival the nurses immediately take him to
intensive care. A doctor returns to the friends and asks
'So what have you been doing then? Smoking cannabis?'
'Well sort of', replies one of the guys, 'But we ran out of gear,
so I made a home-made spliff.'
'Ahh' replies the doctor, 'And what did you put in it?'
'Oh, just a bit of cumin, some turmeric and a couple o f oth er
spices.'
'Well that explains it.' The doctor sighs. 'He's in a korma!'
rabbit goes into a bar and asks for a cheese toastie and
a pint. He eats the toastie and d rinks the pint, then
leaves.
The next day he walks into the bar and asks for a ham toastie
and a pint. He eats the toastie and drinks the pint, then leaves.
The following day the rabbit walks into the bar and asks for a
chees e and ham toastie and a pint. He eats the toastie, drinks
the pint, runs around the room for a bit then drops dead.
A
Bye bye bridge
Following last years tragedy
during the Water festival the
offending bridge (who’s fault it
was. Not the incompetence of
Phnom Penh’s finest of cou rse)
is being dismantled as predicted and is now replaced by
two other bridges.
Let’s hope they remain one
way only.
Open for free!!
It appears that the road up
Bokor mountain is finished and
astoundingly there is now no
fee to go up!
A company employee wouldn’t
say if this was going to be a
permanent ch ange or not.
Guess the only inkling we get
is when they start building a
Oh dear says the bar-man, another case o f mixin' me toasties
tourist in Vienna is going through a graveyard and all of a
sudden he hears some music. He locat es the source. It is coming from a grave with a headstone that reads: Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770-1827.
Then he realizes that the music is the Ninth Symphony and it is being played backward! Puzzled, he leaves the gravey ard and persuades a friend to return with him. By the time they arrive back at
the grave, the music has changed. This time it is the Seventh being
played backward.
Curious, the men agree to consult a music scholar. When they return
with the expert, the Fifth Symphony is playing, again backward.
The expert notices that the symphonies are being played in the reverse order in which they were composed, the 9th, then the 7th, then
the 5th.
By the next day the word has spread and a throng has gathered
around.
Just then the graveyard's caretaker ambles up to the group. Someone
in the group asks him if he has an explanation fo r the music.
"Don't you get it?" the caretaker says, "He's decomposing."
here were two prawns, James and Christian, swimming along
the bottom of the ocean. James accidentally rubs up against an
old lantern and whoosh, a genie appears and grants James two
wishes.
After a moment's thought James decides that he wants to becom es a
shark. Whoosh, James becomes a shark and swims off.
Two weeks later James is upset. All of his old friends are now afraid
of him and his life is miserable. He decides to use his second wish,
and he wishes to be a prawn once again. Whoosh.... Now a prawn
once more, James swims away to look for his mate Christian.
When he arrives at Christian's house he knocks on the door . "Go
away", says Christian, "you're a shark and you'll just eat me".
"No I won't", shouts James, "I'm a prawn again Christian".
A
T
new toll booth!
Shocking
A very well off person has a
small lake in the grounds of
their country retreat outside
Phnom Penh.
He stocks it with sport fish fo r
friends entertainment and employs a man to look after it.
Many months later he takes
some friends to go fishing with
him.
After a period of time nobody
has caught a fish. A small boy
appears and asks one of the
guests what he is doing with
the funny stick in his hand?
"Fishing" is the reply.
The boy says, "My dad doesn't
catch fish here like that." And
proceeds to mimic electro fishing to show them how its done.
It turns out the boys father is
the man employed to look after
the lake and is now currently
unemployed.
Safe Tourism
An interesting little booklet we
came across recently in a hotel
has some basic in fo on Cambodia and sights to see but its
main focus is on child prostitu-
tion.
Every page has a section at the
bottom giving the Cambodian
Laws reg arding pimping, traffi cking, debauchery etc. It also
gives the impression that fi fteen is the age of consent here
which may be wrong as people
have been prosecuted regard ing older girls. This does depend on which set of laws are
being applied to the case at
hand.
Perhaps a cl ari fication o f the
legal age, AIDS, landmines,
robberies et c. would give the
title a little more meaning because at the moment it reads
like the perverts guide to Cambodia.
Musical porn
Customers in one bar were
treated to the new hit "Moan,
slurp and Groan" a while ago.
The owner decided to watch
some adult entertainment on his
computer upstairs un fortunat ely
he forgot that the computer
played the music in the bar so
customers heard "Debbie doing
Dallas" or whatever it was.
HAPPY 2012 TO ALL OUR
READERS AND PLEASE NOTE
ITS CHINESE NEW YEAR ON
THE 23rd SO HALF THE
TOWN WILL B E SHUT DOWN
FOR A FEW DAYS
Movie Reviews
Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol
The 'Mission' series has been something of an oddity for such a successful franchise. Each film has been quite distinct from the other and all have been fraught
with enough problems that none have ever really
established a model that further sequels or other
franchises have tried to emulate. This fourth
entry, director Brad Bird's first foray into liveaction after two of Pixar's most acclaimed efforts, comes the closest to grasping the greatness
that has eluded the series. It does so precisely
because it keeps its focus on the basics, and if
nothing else proves that there's still a lot to be
said for formulaic action when it's handled with
such aplomb.
I've a big soft spot for Brian De Palma's Eurocentric mid-90's original thanks to its strong supporting cast (like Vanessa Redgrave's deliciously
fun arms dealer), several impressive set pieces
and a solid spy game storyline let down mostly
by some ridiculous third act shenanigans which
were typical of that time in blockbuster filmmaking. John Woo's Sydney-set and "Notorious"inspired sequel was a visually impressive but
exceedingly dull slog of a follow-up. Painfully dumbed down, it
seemed to mostly consist of a lot of slow-motion shootouts on sandstone cliffs and bike chases along national park highways.
Though a definite improvement over Woo's entry, I'm not a fan J.J.
Abrams' third 'Mission'. A noble but ultimately failed attempt at
deconstructing the series and humanising Ethan Hunt, the goal was
high but the end result was akin to the weaker final few seasons of
Abrams' own far more engaging "Alias" TV series.
What was the third film's greatest strength is the fourth film's most
notable weakness. Michael Nyqvist's Russian baddie is more mannered but ultimately not much more developed than the antagonist
he played in the ridiculous "Abduction" a few months back. The man
plans to steal codes and launch a nuclear war - not for any justifiable
or even believable reason, rather he's just a nut. As a result the film's
plot is a loose framework to string together numerous set pieces
across three cities - Moscow, Dubai, Mumbai - to stop his plan.
Yet an undercooked plot and a weak villain ultimately matter little.
Bird delivers one of the most entertaining and energetic studio films
this year by embracing a classic action approach rather than running
away from it in an attempt to seem edgy. We're in an era where the
genre standard has become the downbeat Bourne-esque approach of
tortured heroes, brutal fisticuffs, and drunken handheld cinematography. 'P rotocol' bucks the trend, bringing back exotic locales shot
with wide framing, a focus on glossy style over dark grit, ambitious
stunts rather than generic shootouts, an embracing of high-tech
gadgets, and even (god forbid) a sense of humour.
This is the first of the sequels that seems to remember the original
small screen source material to some extent and swaps out the Ethan
Hunt-centric focus in favour of a team working together on missions
to achieve their goal. There's some personal backstory elements involving both Tom Cruise and Jeremy Renner's characters to add
emotional heft, otherwise Bird keeps his eyes focused on the action
and barrels forward at a brisk pace that demands you keep up. It's
episodic, but each of the pieces has been executed with such efficiency and confidence in and of themselves that they will be remembered long after one realises they don't necessarily add up to much.
What's great is how much the film gets right. After a very brief but
eye-catching prologue, the film opens with a prison escape sequence
that shows precisely what good hands we're in. Right away the intense but often playful tone is set, a rescue operation based on precise timing quickly goes haywire - partly due to circumstance, partly
to Ethan's improvising. From the start our heroes are essentially on
the back foot, forced to think fast to catch up with a villain who is
not only well-prepared but has taken their involvement into account
and adjusted accordingly.
This is cleverly demonstrated with the various gadgets in use. The
IMF is equipped with some technological marvels, in fact the film's
single best scene involves a projector screen trick
in a Kremlin hallway that is jaw-dropping in its
cleverness and elicits a good laugh. Once the group
is disavowed after being framed for a bombing, all
their backup and tech support is gone and they
have to make do with what they have on hand. As
a result the gadgets become glitchy, something
which adds to the suspense of various sequences in
the second and third act.
Robert Elswit's cinematography, combined with
the IMAX photography, is superb. Each location is
used to maximum effect via beautiful wide shots,
fluid motion and impressive compositions. Though
there's the odd gratuitous computer generated effect such as an approaching sandstorm and one bit
involving a car crash, most of the movie stays refreshingly practical with the kind of real life camera work and ambitious stunt execution you have
to admire.
The ensemble is well cast with each of the team
members given enough time to be distinctive and
also play off each other. Cruise is the central player
but never overwhelms the movie, and more importantly seems to be
engaged with the material in a way we haven't really seen in years.
While he was Q-lite in MI3, Simon Pegg's role here is greatly expanded to be more like a 'C hloe' to Cruise's 'Jack Bauer' - tech support with a character-centric comic relief element that actually fits.
Better still is the comedy often comes not from clever quips but
from Cruise's body language reactions to Pegg's over-enthusiasm the two make for an unconventional but strangely effective buddy
pairing.
Jeremy Renner adds strong support, complimenting rather than
clashing with Cruise's style. Part reluctant hero with a personal secret, part audience mouthpiece to ask the rational questions in this
rather insane world of wild heroics, he makes himself an essential
part of the team without being a carbon copy of other characters
we've seen before. The gorgeous Paula Patton rounds out the group,
playing a woman with a strong sense of professionalism and one
who can believably kick ass with the best of them. They also thankfully make her human - she makes mistakes but is quick on her feet
and isn't afraid of using her sex appeal to get the job done.
The rest of the cast is more of a mixed bag.
Though it comes off as a standalone entry, there's franchise laying
groundwork going on here. We finally have a team that not only
works well together but one you'd really like to see again in another
film as each gets a decent enough amount of time to impart an impression, while working well together as a whole. There are quick
throwback mentions to the past films, particularly the third, but it's
not necessary to have seen them to enjoy it. The film's pacing is
amongst the best I've seen in years, almost never losing its momentum thanks to character & expository elements being blended into
the action. Yet it also never throws up so much at the screen that it
all becomes white noise.
Bird and his entire crew deliver a product so smooth, glossy and
extremely well made that even the sternest audiences will have to
admire both its sleekness and efficiency. It's not a film of great
depth to be certain which will probably hinder its appeal or rewatchability with some. What it does demonstrate though is how
great even a familiar formula can be when handled with the proper
care. Surprisingly one of the studio tent pole highlights of the year,
and certainly the most satisfying action movie in many months.
Now What’re You Going to Do?
by Randy Nightwalker
Okay, let’s say you got the hang of the hostess bar scene, or
maybe just lucked out and you’ve got a luscious little (or big as
the case may be) seriously irresistible, tickle-your-fan cy, femme
fatale (so maybe she’s not Miss Universe material, but she’s still a
lot of fun and is doing a good job stirring up your gonads) by your
side, what’s next? Well, that depends on what you’re aft er.
Some guys are there for a bit o f casual cuddling, pawing
and whatnot. Maybe they’re married and are taking a break from
the boredom o f domestic li fe and will retu rn to the wifey all
refreshed and perky in spite of the many beers it took to loosen up
in the first place. A little bit of extracurri cular activity can
sometimes give a fellow a whole new outlook on life.
Others aren’t into sex for one reason or another, but just
want to play and feel turned on and excited. Or maybe they hope
to get lucky and find a hostess who’s into knob tweaking. That
happens often enough but is certainly not an everyday, everytime
occurrence. Some girls will do a gentle pat or pinch, just to get
you motivated but aren’t really serious about it. Others are
unabashed and will keep your woody energized as long as you’re
around: maybe they are short o f money and want you to take them
home or just be generous with the lady drinks and tips. It works,
(undoubtedly does fo r me) you can’t help but want to reward their
concentrated attention to your stiff and happy toy.
Or maybe, like myself, they’re always on the lookout fo r
a special one (o r three or four) to form a more lasting rel ationship
with. In that case you’d want to hang back and try to get to know
them a bit befo re you take the plunge. It’d almost be like betrayal
- ‘cheating’ - on my long-time regulars to poke every babe who
turned me on. And while some who get me stirred up would
certainly be fun to get it on with, many would be ho-hum, humdrum and barely worth the time. Even if I saw long term potential
there, trying out every ‘good’ one who came my way would just
be dissipating my energy and distracting me from adequately
taking care o f the ones who’re already taking good care o f me.
My rule is to never take one home before I’ve spent at
least three evenings with her in the bar - I’ve broken it only once
in several years (man, was she dynamite). Once I start it’s with
the intention of staying a long time, so I want to be reasonably
certain she’s going to fulfill my needs and keep me coming back
fo r more indefinitely. Of course, it doesn’t always work out that
way. Sometimes I’ll try one out after a suitable waiting period but
after 4 or 5 sessions I know she’s not what I’m looking for and I
have to cut her off. Something about her mannerisms or the sex
itself totally turns me off. Sometimes that happens after a year or
more o f being with one I’ve previously been powerfully into. Just
something about her way mak es it impossible for me to continue.
I don’t feel good about that but, in the end, I can’t pretend when I
don’t feel it. I may still like her as a person and still visit her and
buy her drinks in the bar but I just can’t bed down with her again.
Alternatively, I had a regul ar some years back who I had
to cut off aft er more than a year together. She had a beautiful
hooked Indian nose and a nice chunky body, just the way I prefer
them, and the sex only got better in time, but equally she became
more and more disinterested and distracted. Ironically, the time
before the last time we were together was one o f the b est sessions
I’ve ever had with a hostess girl, but the last time was the final
straw. We were in bed and I was starting the preliminaries but her
mind was elsewhere. As I was trying to get her motivated she
picked up a magazine and started leafing through it. Being
majorly put off, I took it away from her aft er a short time and put
it aside saying, Not now. A couple minutes later she picked it up
again. Well, I had to finish in spite of her disinterest and my
frustration, since we were in bed and naked and I was going to
have to pay anyway, but that was the end for sure.
On the other hand, I’ve now got two regular partners
I’ve been seeing for nearly three years. I don’t think I’ll ever be
the one to say to either of them that it’s over between us. I won’t
say never becaus e that’s a dangerous word - you almost always
have to do what you say you’ll never do. But most likely it’ll be
them who’ll cut me loose, probably after finding permanent
partners to do the marriage and family thing with. I always tell
them in that situation I’ll be sad to see them go but also wish
them the best o f luck. I’ve got two more who I’ve known fo r
more than one and a half years each but only started sex with a
few months ago. One took a long time working out her virgin
thing, the other involved complications which forced me to wait.
The erstwhile virgin belongs to the category of me never being
the one to end the relationship, the other probably.
When they call me a butterfly, I agree but qualify that
by saying I’m not like a butterfly that goes to 100 different
flowers every day, rather I go to the same special flowers week
after week, month after month, sometimes year after y ear. My
problem is that I tend to accumulate: if I like a girl I’ll keep
coming back, buying drinks and doing my chas stieu - old
playboy - thing, sometimes for years, waiting for the rel ationship
to click. Once I’ve fallen into their wily clutches - mentally at
least - I don’t know how to extricate myself: When they call
wanting me to visit their bar, I don’t know how to say, Sorry,
sweetie pie, I’m already booked out and way overdrawn on my
love and affection account, I’ve got no time or money for you.
Once I’ve fallen in love (way too easily, as it happens) I cannot
bring myself to face the fact that I really can’t, by any reasonable
standard of logic or practicality, add any more babes to my
playlist. Meanwhile, there are at least four more hot lovelies
who’ve been added to my wanking dreamboat pantheon…
waiting in the wings, so to speak… oh, well.
The absolute other end of the spectrum to my own sorry
addiction is represent ed by a fellow I met a while back who’s
goal was to bed down with a different girl every night for a year:
he was up around 200 when I met him. To each his own, I say
and who am I to judge? Everybody’s entitled to pursue his
dream but, I have to say, that pursuit seems exceedingly shallow
and possibly dicey in my perspective.
That’s certainly eminently doable in a place like Phnom
Penh even if you’re only looking in the girlies, but then why
bother with hostess girls who have a little character and pizzazz
and cost more besides? Might as well do one brothel at a time
and work through all the denizens in turn and then move on to
the next. Doing that many in quick succession you’d hardly be
able to differentiate anyway: it’d be boobs and bum continuum.
If you happened to come across a ‘good one’, one you actually
liked, who was maybe really good in bed, you’d have to wait as
much as a year to get back to her. Then again, the word ‘like’
would probably not be the operative word for someone totally
obsessed with casual sex, whose interest was totally selfcentered.
In my experience, no matter how good in the sexual arts
you or she are, when you really like her and desire to please her
the sex only improves with practice. That’s especially true of
hostess girls who’re either inexperien ced because they are quite
new at the game or very experienced so are blasé and indifferent
since they do it so oft en with guys who, like the above fellow
who’s after a different girl every night, have no interest in them
as people or their pleasure as sex partners. They also may simply
be not very responsive since they’ve gotten into pattern of money
fo r sex: It’s become a job and their main interest is to get it over
with. Once you pay real attention to her needs and show you
really care about her, she may become more op en to enjoying sex
fo r its own sake, rather than as a purely mercenary act.
As to the dicey part, out of 365 hostesses there’re bound
to be 10 or 20 carrying some type o f VD and while condoms are
very effective protection from infection, you can get gonorrhea,
Chlamydia or syphilis as easily from oral sex. To be safe, going
down on her would be out of the question and for me a dealbreak er; if I can’t get my nose right into the bog and wade around
a bit I feel deprived. Further, though HIV transmission from
female to male through unprot ected s ex is very rare b etween
otherwise healthy partners, not so if either one has an STD. In the
case where she has both HIV and gonorrhea, there’s a very high
likelihood you’ll get the clap and almost certainly HIV along
with it.
That’s one reason I try to stick to a limited number. I
don’t believe any of my regulars would knowingly infect me. It’s
also true that in many females, STDs are asymptomatic; that is,
they are carri ers without knowing they have it; they experience
no symptoms. However, even in that case, if they’re working
steadily any guy they inadvertently infected would know where
to find them to inform them there was a problem. That still leaves
plenty of opportunity for infection, but nowhere near having a
different complete stranger ev ery night.
Similarly to the above guy who would probably make
the Guinness record book fo r successive nights with a different
female, i f there was su ch a category, are guys who come to
Cambodia only for sex. A guy I know consistently bad mouths
Cambodia, so I asked him why he was here. He responded by
saying he’d stay in his home country if the women were ch eap.
Pretty straightforward answer, I’d say, but Cambodia isn’t the
only place where sex is cheap so he probably should look around
fo r another country he doesn’t hate so much.
There are lots of guys who are referred to, in a
derogatory fashion by the larger society, as sex tourists, or
sexpats, suggesting they are here fo r only one reason. Without
getting into a longwinded discussion of the world’s social
maladies, there are a lot of guys who’d never get laid if they
didn’t come to a place like Cambodia. Concurrently, for a lot of
uneducat ed young Cambodian women, providing love for hire is
the only way they’re going to be able to adequately provide fo r
themselves and their families. If the whole scenario carries a lot
of moral bagg age, well so be it, the world’s not perfect.
As for calling someone like me a sexpat, there are a lot
of reasons why I live in Cambodia besides access to sex, love and
affection. But for sure, no matter how much I otherwise liked a
country and its people I’d never live where enjoyment o f the
sensual arts was severely constrained like in Pakistan, for
instance.
Guys who come to Cambodia on vacation with sex in
mind are probably a lot better off at one of the freelance venues
since the transaction is bare bones and clear cut with no
subsidiary costs; there’s no pressure to buy lady drinks and no
barfine to pay. Freelancers are not very picky, they’re generally
open to any guy who doesn’t seem too deranged.
Not long after my book, Addicted to Love, was
published, one of my readers sent me an email with a blistering
attack on Khmer girls: they were stupid, lazy, liars, thieves and
drug addicts. Turned out he was picking up freelance girls at
Sharkey’s and Walkabout, taking them home and then trying
them out for temporary live-in partners, wanting them for a
month or two at most. And even while his own commitment was
strictly limited he expected them to instantly transition from taxigirl to lovey-dovey, good-house-cleaner, domestic-partner mode.
If you are looking for a rose, the last place you want to
check out is a garbag e can, though anything is possible. I know a
guy who met a girl at Walkabout that he spent 7 good years with.
When I was new to Phnom Penh and frequ enting the freelance
bars for female com fort, I sometimes came across really sweet
girls who needed money to support a child or in one case was
told by mama to get out and hustle cause the family was broke.
What’s more, even with the hard-core, not-so-innocent
freelancers, I never had his bad experiences. I’ve never in ten
years in Cambodia came across a girl into drugs other than the
ones I turned on to pot… but I don’t consider that a drug, any
more than alcohol is. For sure, I had no desire for a live-in
partner, so I wasn’t setting myself up for such abject
disappointment.
Hostess bars are for guys who are looking fo r a bit
more. Even if their goal is one-time, short-time sex pure and
simple, they still like the idea of getting to know her a little fi rst.
And if a guy is actually looking for something more, the hostess
bars are the places to make that quest. They represent a middle
way between full-time, freelance taxi girls and those ‘good girls’,
who you’ll probably never have a chance to meet. (One
additional category are those girls who are staff at non-girlie bars
who are oft en available, but only for guys who are aft er serious
relationships.) Hostess girls are savvy about men and wise to
their ways, but they’re also generally really sweet, friendly,
good-hearted young women. Not all for sure, but for the most
part they are really fun to know and love. There’s always the
possibility you’ll get snookered, ripped-o ff or lied to, but more
oft en, you just feel privileged for their comp any and glad to be
alive.
Of course, I’m addicted, so you can’t trust what I have
to say, you just have to see for yoursel f.
BITS FROM THE BEACH
H
appy New Year fan atic ‘Pearnik’ lovers and travelers
passing through! (I love that word) What a big year
it was! There were new bars and old bars (closing),
Sihanoukville Lions (local football team) have a new
sponsor, aero planes landing (not crashing) & a brand new five
star resort which open ed before Christmas on an island on
schedule. More on some of these stories later in the bulletin.
On New Year’s Eve which will of course be all over and done
with by the time you read this, the Government had decided to
put their hands in their pocket and tossed up fo r a “ Sea Festival”
on the famed Ochh euteal Beach.
It will include an exhilarating mix of music, sport and food. I
personally will be very interested in the 5Km open sea swim
(just quietly probably 5% of Khmers can swim and I hope the
authorities have the Red Cross and or the Saint John’s
Ambulance on standby with a few Surf Life saving guards on
hand), jet ski races are also on the ag enda and previous brack ets
apply to this as well.
The Sponsors and Government tried their best to get Black
Caviar and Frankel to run the mile down the beach however the
best that could be mustered for the ev ent were three ponies and a
beach. (Sounds like a book makers holiday) I wond er i f you will
be able to have a punt on that race.
It has been report ed in some of the local rags that all rooms were
booked over New Years, this could end up a disaster we will
report this next month, local authorities expect crowds between
50 to 80 thousand. We at the Pearnik who have covered the
event over the numerous years predict a Tsunami of tourists, I
hope the town copes! How many o f th em will have trotted down
to Ream for the Totally Resurrected rave, I was there earlier in
the month and was more concerned about where I was going to
have a dump.
Now fo r a Soft Krama moment ‘Kiwi Dave’ who sadly passed
away during the month by natural causes, he be missed
throughout the community and we pass on our condolences to
family and padres.
Sihanoukville Lions Football Club have a new sponsor as far as
we believe. We could be wrong but as far as we know “The
Ocean Walk Inn” has picked up the rights fo r sponsorship and
providing for n ew uni forms. Anybody interested in watching a
lazy game of footb all should pop into the Walk Inn too find out
where their next fixture will be, volunteers to provide oranges (at
hal f time) and refreshm ents to the goalie would be appreciated.
Austrian Beer Garden Schnitzel King “ Roman” had a fabulous
turn out for Christmas eve, good fair o f food only just too wet
your appetite fo r Christmas day. Thanks for the great day!
Cambodian Beer has arrived into the province (Chip Mong) have
done really well and turned on a nice Lag er which has many bar
owners questioning whether to switch from the Provincial
Locally Brewed Angkor and jump ship after 45 years of
churning it out, or I suspect plenty of smoke and mirrors coming
fou rth in the coming months with establishments hedging their
brewery bets.
There is nothing wrong with competition and in fact we think it
betters the field, the breweries’ slugging it out lifting the bar
higher. Two things here to take note bar owners: Don’t let the
Brewery Mast er o f Angkor catch you with a can o f piss from the
op p o s i t i o n
(AKA:
C am b o d i a B eer (Go o db y e
Wednesday’s)). CAMBREW please provide bar owners with
more modern Temprites, the ones that are kicking around today
resemble Millennium Falcons and cost the earth to run.
Speaking of the Concrete Empire Chip Mong, plenty of concrete
has been poured down the new Serendipity beach road, I
personally thought this would never happen. But since there has
been only a one inch pour of con cret e (I am not an expert) would
not suggest it will be there this time next year. Victory Hill has
also thrown down some concrete but it looks like not everybody
has dug deep into their pockets.
Hats o ff and Congratulations to our good friends The Hunters,
their resort after 18 months of construction works 30km off the
coast of Sihanoukville opened. A very ambitious project in this
part of the world was delivered on time (So the rumors say).
Un fortunately the Pearnik were not invited to opening prelim
parties but maybe hoping for an invitation for the Grand Opening
on the 13 February. We will keep checking the mail box and
bring our own cosmic lubricant.
It finally happened a scheduled plane arrived at Sihanoukville
airport on 14 December arriving on time and in one piece.
A shuttle bus was provided for $6, which meant the greedy tuk
tuk drivers would not get a piece of the action and taxi drivers
who were asking $40 a lift 5 years ago to get into town would
have being peev ed. ( Just quietly $40 bucks would have gotten
you to Phonom Penh.)
Have had a coupl e o f reports o f a Steak restaurant in town not
quiet serving up ridgey didge Imported Steak, with one local
resident trying this restaurant twice with a group o f fellas and all
left unimpressed.
The Governor o f the restaurant was spoken to accordingly and
they were insured that all their meat was track ed from the source
all the way to the restaurant and would be guaranteed “The most
exceptional meal”. Apparently when their meals arrived and
dissatisfaction grumbled around the table, Governor was
nowhere to be seen, it’s lucky his place hasn’t gone up in a ball
of smoke.
Okey Dokey that brings it too a close, bring on 2012 I say! Let
us know you stories at [email protected]
Bayon
Pearnik
®
Adam Parker, Publisher and EditorEditor-inin-Chief
A. Nonnymouse,
Nonnymouse, Wordsmiths
Sharpless,
Sharpless, Photos
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The Bayon Pe arnik is an in depende nt magazine dedicated to raising beer
money as well as encouraging debate over standards of taste, humor and
journalistic ethics. Published every month or so in Phn om Pen h. N ot to be t aken
seriously or while driving or operating heavy machinery. Always consult your
doctor first because we're not responsible f or what happens t o you.
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The Bayon Pearnik, P.O. Box 2279,
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