Curious People

I have figured out the formula for attracting a nice array of very interesting, strange, unique, and odd people in Phnom Penh. Here is what you do:
Step 1: You must be by yourself. Being one person alone is very much more inviting for people that if you are with someone else.
Step 2: Go to the riverside area in Phnom Penh and watch life go by.
Step 3: Have a very inviting look about you, and talk to anyone who tries to engage you in coversation.
The formula is simple, just sit by yourself on the the ledge to the Tonle Sap River along the riverfront. I have been doing this for the last 3 hours and have had some very interesting, fun, hilarious, sad, weird, and depressing stories to tell.

I had just finished a massage, and was in high spirits. I was strolling around the streets, enjoying the Cambodian breeze whipping around my hair. I decided to sit down on the river's ledge to watch life go by, which never ceases to be boring.
There was a woman with a child about 8 or 9 about 10 feet from me. The girl was very eager to talk to me and practice her English. I small talked with the young daugher for a while. The mother and daughter were homeless, and had all their posessions in a few bags. Two Cambodian young guys came up and sat next to me. They asked if we could talk, and I said sure. The guys looked like Mormons, very well dressed and clean cut, but with a strangly mischevious air about them. I chatted with them for a while, and then noticed the homeless woman and daughter behind them trying to get my attention. "NOO!!!" they mouthed. "Bad boys! Don't talk!" Hmm... I wondered, what are they, the Phnom Penh mafia or something? Then one of the guys took out a Bible. "You like Bible?" he asked me. "No." I replied rather bluntly. More women gathered around behind the guys so they couldn't see them. The women and girls continued waving to me and mouthing for me not to talk to them... They didn't seem too harmful, I thought maybe they were some sort of missionary... but maybe that was just their disguise. The homeless women and girls sat down near by and motioned me over to sit with them. I said goodbye to the guys and went over to talk to them. About 5 mintues after I had moved, the guys came over and asked if I would meet them tomorrow. "No, I don't think so," I replied, again, rather bluntly. They looked at each other, and quietly consulted one another. "Do you hate us?" they asked me. "No," I replied, I just don't want to meet you. "Oh, ok." Then they left.
For about an hour I sat and talked to the homeless women and children. There was one mother with a one year old boy, naked from waist down. She had hardly any teeth left. She was 26 years old which was "old" in her opinion. Then there was the woman and girl I had originally been talking to. The mother turned out to be 29, and the daughter was 10. (HOLY!! she had her when she was 19!) The mother looked alot older than she really was and was missing a bunch of teeth as well. The daughter though, she was a character!! Incredibly charismatic, spoke very good English, a real fire cracker type of girl. A hilarious sense of humor, very compassionate, excited about life even though her circumstances seemed far from ideal. From the hours of conversation here is what I learned about the two: They sleep every night in the riverside area, usually on the grass. The girl's mother has no job, and can't get a job because she has no marketable skills. The girl's father is no where to be found, and I don't think she even knows him. The girl goes to school (I think), at least some times.
I asked all about their lives and what they do everday. They eat rice. Just rice because it's cheap. They have been homeless for about 3 years now. Sometimes at night, boys that huff paint come and steal things from them. the daughter relayed all this to me with excitement and seemed completely unphased by all these hardships. They mother and daughter both admired my turquoise rings I had on from Nepal. At this point the mother took the dangly plastic turqoise colored earrings out of her ears and placed them in my hand. I was so touched by this gesture. I at first said I could not accept them, but the mother insisted in her broken English. She really wanted me to have the earrings. The charismatic pair had nothing but a few bags with all their worldly possessions in them, and the mother gave me the only jewellry she owned.
After a while, we gathered a crowd of a bunch more street girls, homeless mothers, and child booksellers who roam the streets trying to sell knock off books to foreigners for a few bucks. Most of the children were crawling on me like I was a jungle gym. I had a small naked one year old baby in my lap and was bouncing him up and down. I lifted him off me just in the nick of time to miss a heavy stream of pee.
One of the mother's most prized possessions seemed to be a collection of about 10 pictures. They were all wrapped in plastic and she showed them to me carefully. All were of the mother and daughter a few years ago. The mother looked about 10 years younger in the pictures thanshe did now. I looked into her eyes in the pictures. They were full of youth and hope. I looked at her eyes now, they seemed dazed and more empty. From various snippets of the conversation and from the pictures I had a feeling some thing bad has happened in the last 2 years to her. I had a premonition that she mayhave become a prostitute to support herself and her daughter.
She presented me with one picture very proudly showing me a bracelet she was wearing in the picture. It was a thick band of jade. I complimented her on the bracelet in the picture. Very beautiful. Then I noticed that in the picture she had swollen glassy eyes, a sort of puffy face, and a few very purple bruises on her face. I asked the daughter what they were from. Apparently, her mother hadn't given a man some money that she owed him (maybe another clue into her life as a prostitute?) and he came in the night when she was sleeping and beat her up and stole her things. Then he took the daughter and dragged her into the river and tried to drown her but the daughter swam away intime to live. I was shocked. The daughter didn't seem to think it was any big deal. Oh yeah, the girl also had a little brother at one point but he is dead now from drowning.
Somehow I ended up with a pen in my hand and was drawing "tattoos" onto all the eager street children around me. I did a palm tree on the girl's hand and a flower on her arm. She loved it, showing it off proudly to everyone. Then all the other kids wanted one too, so I turned into a Phnom Penh tattoo street artists. It was rather comical. Me, sitting on the river bank with a felt tip pen, inking dirty and delightful kids with images of trees, flowers, suns, and other symmetrical designs. The whole thing turned into a bit of a mob scene with all the kids trying to get a tattoo. Groups of tourists passed me giving me quizzical looks as though I might need to be saved, and what the hell was I doing in the middle of all these homeless people anyway? All these women and children living on the Phnom Penh streets made me love Cambodia even more than I already did. Their genuine kindness, wonderful sense of humor, generosity, and warmth made me so happy. Most, seemed purely happy, despite having nothing and having to sleep outside day after day and dealing with things like beatings, starvation, and stealing. Some of the best people I have met.

A few hours later I said goodbye to all my new friends and moved to a new spot down the river bank. I stopped at a food cart and boy 2 skewers of grilled squished bananas, my favorite street snack and sat down to enjoy the setting sun. A group of young kids were playing down by the water, mostly were wearing either tatters or were completely naked. They came up to me to ask for money and I gave them the remainder of my bananas. They were very pleased with this and sad on the ground relishing the warm sweetness. Then we all started to talk (mostly through charades because they spoke almost no English.) I again, somehow ended up with a pen in my hand, and the kids eagerly pointing to where they wanted me to draw on them. I did my classic palm tree, ocean, setting sun, seaguls flying scene which they were delighted with. So the little group each got a ball point pen palm tree tattoo. After I had finished with them they looked like quite the little biker gang. While tatting them up, a young guy who I thought may have been Japanese was standing beside me watching the whole thing, and laughing at the excited kids. "Very nice!" he complimented the tattoos. I started practicing my Khmer with the kids, reading sentences from the guidebook while they corrected my pronounciation. The possible Japanese guy sat down very near and watched me... I struck up a conversation with him. It turns out he is Chinese from Hong Kong, and has been living in Phnom Penh for 5 months. "Are you Catholic?" was the first question he asked me, pulling away his scarf to reveal a cross hanging from a leather necklace. "No," I repliced. "Christian?" "No." "Buddhist?" "No. Atheist." "Oh..." We small talked for a bit. He looked like a pretty hip guy, mid twenties I think. He got out a scrap of paper and asked me for a pen. I handed him one, while I practiced more sentences with the kids. I thought he was going to write his email address for me. He handed me a slip of paper he had been secretly scrawling something on. I held it up to make out the writing and he anxiously said "Put it down!!!" motioning for me to read it more secretly.... By the way, at this time there were about 10 Cambodian guys standing around "discreetly" watching me draw and talk with the kids. I looked at the paper, tilting it toward the last sun light. What the... On the scrap of paper was scrawled: "I AM A Out Communists (UWFO)" "What the hell?" I thought to myself. This is getting weird. Then, he starts screaming at the nearest Cambodian guy standing near me. "I know you are a communist!! You want to hit me!! You are a Buddhist!! Get out!! You want to hit me!!!" It was a bit startling. I still had no idea what the note was supposed to mean, and could not really understand his whispery explanation in broken English. This was getting intersting. First of all, what is the UWFO?? He mentioned it over and over again. I googled it just now, and could find nothing. Second, why do I care? Well, he said he hates Cambodia and wants to move to USA. He says there is too much communism, Buddhism, and monks. "Very bad. Too much monk. Too much Buddha. All should get out." What the???? This was the first opinion I have heard this negative about Buddhism... "Well, Cambodia is a Buddhist country you know. If you hate Buddhists why did you come?" He responded, although I couldn't tell his point. Something about Vietnam, the UN, refugees, China wanting to kill him, he can never go back to China because the police will shoot him, people in PP want to kill him, Buddhists hate him, monks bad... Really didn't make much sense to me. He really seemed to despise Buddhists whole heartedly, and seemed to connect Buddhists and communists (never heard this link before. Is there a link?) Well, I was starting to get a bit nervous. From his words, it seemed like everyone in Asia hates him and wants to kill him... I was starting to expect an assasination attempt right there on the river front and scooted a bit away. Besides this strange talk and weird note, he seemed like a nice guy... But he refused to stop ranting about how all the communists should get out of Cambodia, and all the Buddhists should get out. (Now this is just ridiculous, because it's a Buddhist country!!!! WTF) At this point, I was so full of stories I couldn't take it anymore, so I said goodbye to him and that it was nice to meet him. I took the note with me, and will work and unencrypting it in the future. (Does anyone know what it means? Was he some sort of spy? What is the UWFO? He said everyone in Cambodia knows he is with the UWFO of Vietnam so they hate hiim....)

sit by yourself + look inviting + Tonle Sap river bank + Phnom Penh = weird/strange/sad/funny/moving/depressing/touching/compassion/exhilaration/people