I like to complain about a lot of things. Sometimes I complain about Phnom Penh, I make fun of how it has only five things for tourists to do, how despite the fact that every single weekday morning at the same time I walk the same place, the tuk tuk drivers still ask if I need a ride (I complain about that one a lot).
But the thing is, I really like Phnom Penh. It is hot and it is dirty, and those lecherous tuk tuk drivers don't get any less annoying with time. But it is also a city full of delightful surprises, places I haven't explored yet, mass jazzerobic classes along the river front. Friday night I accidently ended up listening to live music for an hour with a pot of tea. Sunday morning I listened to my flat mate play her accordion.
I've learned enough Khmer to explain that I don't need a tuk tuk because I'm going for a stroll, which gets me bales of laughter each time. I've learned enough Khmer to say that I know prices for Mangos are not a dollar a kilo, and to know which sellers will give me a fair price. I've learned enough Khmer to say that I work in Cambodia and don't rip me off. I haven't learned enough Khmer to not go through hilarious charades every time I visit the tailor.
I eat either a mango or half a pineapple a day. On days when I remember to look up, Phnom Penh has lovely architecture left over from other times. On days when I don't I'm fascinated by the complex entrepreneurship that has arisen over trash collecting.
My Cambodia experience is night time adventures trying to scale statues, pancake breakfasts, and all sorts of market adventures. I'll end this entry before I start complaining about the April heat.