I heard the unmistakeable ringing of a handheld, brass bell and instantly thought “ice cream” tonight. It feels like inclusion having the visual come to mind just from the sound alone, without actually understanding any of the blaring announcements these cart vendors repetitively play. I can now identify the sugar cane juice seller, the fresh fruit and veg carts, the fried glutinous rice cake pusher, the spicy snails in their shells vendor, the garbage truck and others too.
I feel a kind of calm detachment knowing that no matter how often I peer over the terrace railings to see what they have, I never feel the urge to race down the four flights of stairs to see if I can purchase from them before they move on, even though I do buy from various mobile stalls at street level during the day. At night they rarely have anything I’m keen to buy but the same cannot be said for the bargirls below and all along the strip. They all have their favourite mobile vendor snacks, meals and drinks. And personally I’m glad to see the sales and know there will always be business for them in this neighbourhood.
We have had some incredible storms recently. I love it when we are at home and you can hear the rain approaching, with a drumming beat marching across the galvanised iron rooves. The wind picks up and sometimes the blinds and prayer flags fly horizontal. All around us visibility is reduced and everything is cloaked in grey mist. We turn off the fans as they aren’t needed, and the solar lights flicker due to the flashes of lightning while thunder booms loud enough to make us flinch even when we are indoors. Such an onslaught of the senses is loud, energetic, exhilarating and mesmerising. Unless you are caught outdoors or travelling it is spectacular entertainment.
For me perhaps the best time to be in the riverside residential zone is one of the two long festival breaks of the year. While during Khmer New Year almost the whole city empties out and it becomes a ghost town, during the Pchum Ben break there is an exodus but still many remain.
Children reclaim the streets and sidewalks as playgrounds and those business remaining open do a roaring trade: especially the noodle sellers at breakfast. Loud music blares from homes not bars for most of the day and a party atmosphere descends.
The traffic is more easily negotiated and pedestrians are suddenly able to use the footpaths that are miraculously empty of mobile stalls, vendors and motorcycle parking. It’s then that we enjoy roaming in zones usually too cluttered and noisy to negotiate. Following tradition and joining locals in the compulsory visit to the wat is my recommendation.
This year I donned my traditional Khmer clothes along with the locals and made my small offering at Wat Phnom. Unlike new year there were only a smattering of locals and tourist present but those who were and the scant few who remained in our community, were thrilled to see us participating and we were met with broad smiles, thumbs up and delight.
Just another reason to love where we live.
