One of the great things about living in a bustling, vibrant city is being able to walk around. Cities are home to strange, bizarre, mundane, beautiful stuff. There is nothing quite like popping in your headphones, checking out new neighborhoods, and making a music video in your head. The anonymity of a city has its great charm too. Being able to run errands or go from point A to point B on your own without having to talk to anyone and yet being surrounded by people has a great appeal.
Unfortunately this is not possible in Phnom Penh.
Being a foreigner in Phnom Penh means always being noticed. And not just noticed, but being yelled at by moto and tuk-tuk drivers. One can walk very few places in Phnom Penh without having a driver from down the block or across the street call out to you. "Hey Lady!! Moto!" In some of the more tourist heavy areas they are especially aggressive, stepping in front of you on the sidewalk or following you as you walk by. There is no anonymous walking in Phnom Penh. In this way, I imagine that being a foreigner in Phnom Penh is perhaps not too different from being a celebrity hounded by paparazzi. I always thought celebrities were big crybabies for whining about constant paparazzi attention, but now I have a bit more sympathy.
Whenever I walk outside my house the peanut gallery on the street looks up from playing cards and keeps track of which way I'm walking. They notice with whom I'm walking, and like the paparazzi, make assumptions about our relationship. "Is that your husband?" one of them asked me when an old friend came by my apartment. Fortunately we were prepared and responded "No! We're cousins!" That shut them up for a bit.
Simple errands are filled with constant deflections of vehicular advances. If they had cameras these would be equivalent to the "Jennifer Aniston walks her dog" photos in the weekly gossip rags. Leaving areas where foreigners are known to congregate is sometimes like the rush of cameras and reporters on the courthouse steps, except one is hounded by a million requests for a moto or tuk-tuk instead of requests for legal bravado.
My knowledge of Khmer has become a bit of setback as I can sometimes understand the comments of the more crass drivers that I pass-by. Unfortunately my command of Khmer is not impressive enough to respond; my one attempt was met with uproarious laughter.
Dealing with moto and tuk-tuk drivers on a day-to-day basis has honestly worn me down. I very rarely take motos anywhere because a) I like to walk and b) I find it hard to commit to a moto when they've all blurred together into one annoying mess. Being harassed by moto-drivers on my way home from a tough day is enough to put me over the edge. Perhaps I've brought this on myself by living in a place near where there are a lot of tourists and especially aggressive drivers. I am often disappointed at myself for being so angry at them. After all, their presence in high numbers is a reflection of the unemployment and overall lack of opportunity in Cambodia. And their aggressiveness could be because—to paraphrase Jerry Seinfeld on why men in cars honk at women on the street— it's the best idea they have.
So what to do about this situation? I'm in no position to enact some kind of overall systemic change, which is what really needs to happen (see Transportation, Public). Until then, I keep hearing rumors of friends who have "a guy." An honest, trustworthy moto-driver who doesn't overcharge and can help with any manner of problems. I have yet to find this mythical beast. But if you do have "a guy," a moto or tuk-tuk driver who's heart is true and has greater aspirations than getting drunk and playing cards, well count yourself lucky my friend. Hold on to this one and treat him well. And does he have a brother?
alisonincambodia.wordpress.com
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