Coffee with Love (Chapter 9)

CHAPTER NINE

The next evening, Lee is sitting on her desk next to the window, continuing her novel about Jingqiu and Old Third in Under the Hawthorn Tree. But, her mind is not with the book. Her mind is flying outside the window to somewhere faraway. She think about the guy she accidentally hit this morning when she was jogging in the National Stadium near Chulalongkorn. He was Cambodian national, the same as her. He said he worked for an environmental organisation in Phnom Penh and that he had been in Bangkok for a week for an environmental conference at Princess Hotel near the stadium. And today was the last day of his stay. He would leave for Phnom Penh this evening. His name was Ratha, he told Lee. Who is he? Lee murmurs to herself.

Suddenly, an unexpected rain starts pouring down from the grey sky. The heavy traffic is still moving on, slowly. There are more than ten million people residing, studying, and working in Bangkok, a pretty big number of people. They are almost the total population of the whole Cambodian peoples.

Lee looks outside the window at the pouring rain and thinks hard about that guy. He is very similar to someone I have known; yet, whom he is and where we have met, I could not tell. His smile and his voice is very familiar, Lee tells herself. But why can't I recall my memory? Why does my brain become this weak? She argues with herself. Narrowing her eyes, Lee struggles to call back her memory. Right, I remember now. He was the first person I had a crush on. She then blushes. It was a heavily rainy evening that I have met him. The story went like this...

It was a rainy evening. Lee was in grade 11 at that time. The rain heavily fell from the sky. It was time to leave her extra English language class. Yet, having no umbrella, Lee decided to stay on until the rain stopped. Lee had waited for almost half an hour, the rain didn’t stopped. Lee finally decided to walk back home under the rain. It was hard to walk under the heavy downpours without an umbrella. She had no choice. If Lee did not get home as soon as possible, her mother would worry sick. It was freezing cold. Her whole boy was soaking wet. Her hands were shaking as she walked. Once in a while she saw a passerby. There was no street lamp. Cambodia was not very developed at that time. If there was not the light of the houses lining along the road, everything would be pitch black. Lee felt very helpless and lonely and hungry. Her bag and the books inside were all wet. She had to reach home, no matter how cold or hungry she was.

A moment went by, another passerby went past her, riding Cambodian made bicycle. It was red. After passing by, the biker turned around and stopped just in front of Lee. She almost hit the bike. She stopped. Her hands were still shaking. The guy asked her if she’d like a ride home. She asked him if he knew her house. He said they were living in the same street. His house was on the south end and hers on the north end of the same street. He told her their street number in order to gain her trust. It was correct, and she believed him. No further consideration, Lee climbed on the back seat and left with him. By the look of his, Lee thought that he was in early 20s, tall, athletic, dark, gentle charming face, and broad smile. However, Lee could not tell if his hair was straight or curly because it was wet. His white shirt was also wet, reflecting his body. Lee told him that she wanted to get home as soon as possible because she did not want her parents to worry about her late going. He rode his bike with all his energy that he could collect. The bike started to fly through the rain, very fast. Fearing of falling off the bike, Lee held him tightly at his waist. Her head hit his back, occasionally. Inexplicably, her heart raced. She did not know why. Lee grabbed him tighter, as the bike went faster. Her hands were completely around his waist. He laughed, seeing Lee grabbed him hard. He told Lee not to worry. He assured her that she would not fell off the bike. Lee nodded, and her hands were still around his waist. His sweats mixed with rain drops. She smelled his body. It was strange. It was her first time to ride a bike with a total stranger and feel this way. She could not explain herself. Her heart raced against the speed of the bike. Once in awhile, her heart almost jumped out of her chest. Her face turned red. Beware of this, Lee tried to take long breath in order to calm herself down.

Not belong, the guy pressed the brakes and stopped, just in front of her house. In haste and shy, Lee got off the bike and ran into the house. Lee even forgot to say thank you or goodbye to the biker. After changing her clothes, Lee dried her hairs with a towel and sat down in a chair near her bed. She thought, was it a love at first sight? Why did I think like that? That guy and I had no connection or contact before, how come? It was just a hallucination. Yet, for the whole night Lee could not get her mind off him. She wanted to touch his athletic body and meet him again to say "thank you" that she had forgotten. Sadly, after that evening, Lee had never seen him again. She knew neither his name nor his house. The south end of the road was where his house located, he said; but, it was like the south end of the world that Lee would never touch upon. Lee had visited there for many times and no him to be found. They had never met each other again, not even once. Or was he a ghost? Lee was afraid. No. He was not. He was normal person. Maybe he had moved to somewhere else after the incident for some reasons. Lee comforted herself. After a while, Lee lost hope in seeing him, and with the passing time, he became part of her memory, the first person she had a crush on, she concluded.

Lee smiles, recalling back her memory. I knew it. He was that guy, the first guy I had a crush on when I was young. Lee feels nostalgic when she talks about him. The rain outside the window stops. Yet, the slow movement of the heavy traffic goes on. The cars barely move forward. Lee thinks for a time being. What if five years ago Cambodian people were selfish and unreasonable like today, would I become the victim of rape as what frequently appears in the morning news?! Lee sighs. Fortunately, five years ago, most Cambodian people were honest and helpful; unlike today's individualist and benefit-driven, and that guy was trustworthy, Lee tells herself.

To be continued...

Coffee with Love (Chapter 8)

CHAPTER EIGHT

It takes Lee and Sothea almost 14 hours in order to get to Suvanna Phumi Airport in Bangkok from Hawaii, with one transit in Taipei, Capital City of Taiwan. Everyone in the plane looks exhausted. They are tired not because of laboring, but of sitting and sleeping for the whole journey. However, Lee does not show the sign of tiresome. She looks fresh and cheerful. She thinks only about planning her trip back home to Cambodia. Every passenger hurries to claim their luggage.

As soon as they get their luggage, Lee goes straight to an airline company counter to find out flight schedule from Bangkok to Phnom Penh, the Capital of Cambodia. Once learning about the timetable and price, Lee and Sothea head the exist and look for a cap to the city centre where dorm rooms for international students have been prepared inside Chulalongkorn University's campus.

"So what is your plan?" Sothea asks as soon as they settle inside the cap.

"About what?" Lee inquires. Lee turns to the cap window and look at the view along the road.

------------------

After discussion with the host faculty about Sothea's research plan, Sothea and Lee say goodbye to the professor and leave the room and go for a sightseeing tour around the school compound. It is a very huge school and peaceful. There are a lot of trees around. Following the guided tour around the campus, both of them take the school's shuttle bus to Siam Paragon, a popular shopping centre in Bangkok. Once they come across a Kinokuniya bookstore, Lee excuses herself to spend some times in the store and tell Sothea to go by himself.

"Are you sure, you can find the way back?" Sothea asks, afraid Lee might get lost.
"Don't worry," Lee assures, raising Bangkok's Map to Sothea. "I'm not a ten-year-old girl. I can find way by myself. Plus I've got your number. I'll call if I am get lost."
"How about dinner?" Sothea asks, out of curiosity.
"I'll have something at this mall," Lee responds. "I'm sure they have a vast choices."
"I bet they do," unable to convince her, Sothea gives up. "Fine. I have to see some friends anyway."
"Have fun," Sothea waves as he's walking towards the gate.
"You too."

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The sky is getting, the mall is filled with more and more people, particularly students from nearby school, judging by different uniform they are wearing. Having viewed almost all bookshelves, Lee leaves the store with a few novels and descend the stairs to ground floor, looking for something to fill her half empty stomach. She doesn't feel very hungry; however, she has to have some.

It is dark now when Lee leaves the mall. She has been captured by the book they bought earlier that she forgets about the flow of the time. She then walks to the bus stop in front of the mall, waiting for a lift to her place. While waiting for the bus, Lee sees a gay couple also there waiting for the bus. Lee has no idea if they were. But their action tells her so. They look young and are in school uniform. Surrounding by other passengers, one is trying to console the other by touching the other’s hand. They look very sweet, Lee could feel the ways they act towards one another. Maybe they just have had minor quarrel over something, or maybe the other one has made his partner upset. Lee starts to feel jealous to witness a sweet couple like that. They do not care about other people’s eyes looking at them. It seems this whole world consists of only the two of them.

Seeing the couple holding each other's hands reminds Lee the day Yong held her hand at Ala Moana Center, a shopper's paradise and the world's largest open-air shopping center in Hawaii, after their trip to Haleakala National Park. There were over 290 stores and restaurants in Ala Moana. Ala Moana in Hawaiian means path to the sea. They went from store to store to check for this and that.

Though it has been a while that Yong held her hand, when looking at the very right hand that was held, an unintentional smile appears on Lee's face. It was the first time that a grown up man Lee had a crush on held her hand in public place. His touch retains on her hand. The memory of the holding remains vividly in her mind. It has been permanently stored in her head and unable to omit. But when recalling about the sudden appearance of his girlfriend in the coffee shop, Lee's face changes its colour.

The bus has arrived. Lee asks the bus attendant if it goes to Chula; nodded the bus attendant. Lee get in the bus, leaving the cute gay couple behind at the bus stop.

To be continued...

Hundred years ago...

• A- Often when I listen to this music, I'm struck by mysterious emotions with regard to time. To think that people four hundred years ago were listening to the same music we're hearing now! Doesn't it make you feel strange?
• B- It does, but come to think of it, those people four hundred years ago were looking at the same moon we see.
• A- You're quite right about that. Looking at it that way, I guess there's nothing mysterious about people listening to the same music four hundred years apart.
• B- Perhaps I should have said almost the same moon.
• A-The performance on this CD uses period instruments, exactly as it was written at the time, so the music sounds pretty much as it did back then. It's like the moon.
• B- Even if things were the same, people perception of them might have been very different back then. The darkness of night was probably deeper then, so the moon must have been that much bigger and brighter. And of course people didn't have records or tapes or CDs. They couldn't hear proper performances of music anytime they liked: it was always something special.
• A- I'm sure you're right. Things are so convenient for us these days, our perceptions are probably that much duller. Even if it's the same moon hanging in the sky, we may be looking at something quite different. Four hundred years ago, we might have had richer spirits that were closer to nature.
• B- It was a cruel world, though. More than half of all children died before they could reach maturity, thanks to chronic epidemics and malnutrition. People dropped like flies from polio and tuberculosis and smallpox and measles. There probably weren't very many people who lived past forty. Women bore so many children, they became toothless old hags by the time they were in their thirties. People often had to resort to violence to survive. Tiny children were forced to do such heavy labor that their bones became deformed, and little girls were forced to become prostitutes on a daily basis. Little boys, too, I suspect. Most people led minimal lives in worlds that had nothing to do with richness of perception or spirit. City streets were full of cripples and beggars and criminals. Only a small fraction of the population could gaze at the moon with deep feeling or enjoy a Shakespeare play or listen to the beautiful music of Download.
• A- What an interesting person you are!
• B- I'm a very ordinary human being. I just happen to like reading books. Especially history books.
• A- I like history books too. They teach us that we're basically the same, whether now or in the old days. There may be a few differences in clothing and lifestyle, but there's not that much difference in what we think and do. Human beings are ultimately nothing but carriers--passageways--for genes. They ride us into about what constitutes good or evil. They don't care whether we are happy or unhappy. We're just a means to an end for them. The only thing they think about is what is most efficient for them.
• B- In spite of that, we can't help but think about what is good and what is evil. Is that what you're saying?
• A- Exactly. People have to think about those things. But genes are what control the basis for how we live. Naturally, a contradiction arises.

-- extracted from 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

Battambang, Cambodia’s art and soul

Featured in the guardian
http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2014/aug/30/battambang-cambodia-art-creative-tours

Battambang is at the cutting edge of Cambodia’s new art scene. Claire Knox finds a pretty, sleepy city waking up to its creative potential

Monks collect morning alms outside Battambang’s Make Maek gallery in front of scultpture by Mao Soviet. Photograph: Mok Roth

The terrace at Jaan Bai restaurant

Cycling tour with Soksabike, a community project

The resemblance is rather striking. With his dark hair swept to the side and bee-stung lips, Cambodian painter Chov Theanly is often told he’s the dapper doppelganger of the country’s most well-known crooner, the late Sinn Sisamouth, the Frank Sinatra of Cambodia during the 60s, the country’s golden age.

When Khmer Rouge soldiers marched through Cambodia’s cities in 1975, sending its people to oppressive labour camps, film stars and musicians were some of the brutal regime’s first targets and, like many of his peers, Sisamouth disappeared.

But today, almost 40 years later, the arts are thriving once again, and no more so than in Battambang, a dreamy, peaceful city between the capital Phnom Penh and tourist mecca Siem Reap. While construction has rocketed along at breakneck speeds elsewhere, Battambang has, despite being the country’s second-largest city, remained relatively untainted by tourism and mass development. The Sankae river snakes through town, while rice fields, leafy villages and glittering pagodas halo around its edges.

I meet 28-year-old Theanly at a small, artist-run space called Sammaki in the middle of town for an informal art tour. A graphic designer and painter who works from a cool, airy attic above his father’s Chinese shophouse on the riverbank, Theanly is one of a wave of home-grown artists enjoying recent success – his exhibition, entitled Surviving, sold out on its opening night in Phnom Penh last year.

“Everything is just very open and creative and collaborative in Battambang,” he tells me. “There’s an honesty here.”

Perhaps at the core of the city’s artistic revival is the visual arts centre Phare Ponleu Selpak. The sprawling arts school teaches visual, applied and performing arts, provides a formal state education curriculum for almost 1,000 students and welcomes tourists through its gates almost every day of the year, with a circus troupe performance twice a week in the bright big top tent. Phare’s visual arts graduates are now opening their own contemporary art galleries, studios and workshops, and we visit artist-curator Mao Soviet who runs Make Maek, and the newly opened artist-collective space called Studio Art Battambang. It’s a cavernous old shophouse that exhibits large, bamboo sculptures and huge canvases. We pop next door to refuel at Kinyei, a social enterprise cafe with probably the best coffee in Cambodia (try a piccolo or a “Cambodian street latte” with palm sugar and orange essence).

On Theanly’s suggestion I head to another social enterprise eatery for dinner, the innovative Jaan Bai, on Street 2. With Bangkok-based celebrity chef David Thompson involved in the set-up and menu design, it’s a fun spot to unwind – local artists were commissioned to create a huge, psychedelic mural on the restaurant’s outside wall and the menu is designed for sharing. Head chef Mohm trained intensively with Thompson at the Bangkok Nahm and the menu reflects this – there’s a delicious Thai green curry, a finger-licking good dish of crab from the seaside hamlet Kep with Kampot pepper with chilli jam and a fiery kick. Cocktails have a Khmer twist – try the dragonfruit caipirinha and the lemongrass bloody mary.

Besides the contemporary art scene, Battambang’s striking architecture adds to its allure. To the north of town lies the magnificent Sala Khaet, the old Governor’s Residence. In 1905 the last Thai “lord governor”, Chhum Aphaiwong, hired Italian architects to erect this sweeping European-style palace. Elsewhere, French colonial villas and art deco structures rub shoulders with striking modernist “New Khmer” buildings erected during the 1960s.

The influence of China is evident too – one good example is at Lotus, a sleek restaurant-cum-gallery in a three-storey Chinese shophouse, painstakingly restored by Battambang expat Darren Swallow. While the restaurant serves middle-eastern fare – house-made hummus, baba ganoush, Iraqi-style laffeflatbread, couscous and lentil salads – the second floor hosts art exhibits and screens independent films and documentaries.

I venture out of town on my last day and join a half-day cycling tour with Soksabike, another community project set up by Kinyei cafe. It’s a 30km loop around the villages and gives us a glimpse into the various agricultural industries – rice paper production, dried fruits, rice liquor and prahok(fermented fish paste) are some – that support Battambang’s economy.

Weaving along palm-fringed roads in the early morning haze is a dreamy experience. We continue down red-dirt roads, through a maze of bamboo trees and lush countryside. Women with checked kramas (cotton scarves) wrapped around their heads smile and wave at us.

Later, we see women wearing hijabs in a rainbow of colours do the same. This north-western area is home to many Muslim Cham villages, and is studded with ornate mosques. This melting pot of cultures, ethnicities and religions, plus the juxtaposition of old and new, is what Theanly finds captivating about Battambang, and something he thinks makes it a great spot for creativity.

“My aunt grew up in this town in the 1960s,” he says. “She always tells me stories of Sinn Sisamouth coming up here to visit other stars: how they would stroll along the river and he would play the harmonica. One of his famous songs, Oh Battambang, is about this river, and I think most people who come here see what he saw … they see what’s so special. I can’t imagine being anywhere else right now.”

• Singapore Airlines flies from Heathrow to Phnom Penh via Singapore for about £680 return. Buses run regularly from Phnom Penh to Battambang (five to six hours, $7) and from Siem Reap (four to five hours, $4) but for a more comfortable and faster ride, a private taxi from Phnom Penh (four hours) and Siem Reap (three-four hours) costs about $50. Theanly’s art tours can be arranged through Lotus (#53, Street 2 ½, +855 92 260 158). They’re free but tipping your guide or making a donation to Sammaki is recommended. Soksabike bike tours (soksabike.com) cost from $27 for half a day. For somewhere to stay, Battambang Resort (+855 12 510100, battambangresort.com, garden rooms from $60), lies amid rice fields on the southern fringes of the city, and owner Phary offers food tours