Like new

I'm dusting myself off from the workings of the week. I had a slight spring in my step this morning as I walked to the office. It's truly amazing what a new (vintage) dress can do. I'm a new woman.

Tomorrow morning, I'm off with my American flatmate, off to Siem Reap (changed our mind about Sihanouk Ville) to do tourist things. We are going to have Burmese food, ice cream, and cake. And, while he temple-hops, I am going to get a massage and catch up on my reading.

We are going to escape the colorful mayhem of Water Festival in Phnom Penh.

Kep and Rabbit Island, pt. 1

Nearly two weekends ago, I spent a few days on Rabbit Island with friends and colleagues. Rabbit Island sits right off the Cambodian coastal town of Kep. The island can be described as "rustic" insofar as there are no fancy or even moderate hotels on this island, just several straw bungalows offering running water and generator-powered electricity (which shuts off at 9pm), chickens, dogs, blue fishnet hammocks tied to coconut trees, and a handful of restaurants on the sand.

In all honesty, I did not look forward to this trip because my memories of that island -- from my shenanigans in July -- are dominated by a flurry of rain, wind, and salt water tearing away at my little boat as I traversed the choppy sea back to the mainland, my white-knuckle grip grasping for anything I could hold onto.

I'm glad I gave Rabbit Island a second chance, if only because it allowed me to spend time in the company of dear friends, one of whom will soon be leaving Cambodia.

Addendum

via Sample Sally

As for our shoemaking conspiracy, here's our inspiration. I own several of the flat sandals in this picture, designed by now-defunct (boo) Brooklyn label Devotte.

These shoes are so walkable, so comfortable, that I literally wear them all the time. Salty sea water, coupled with the grime of walking day after day on streets of Phnom Penh and on the unpaved ground of the Cambodian provinces have not helped matters along. I now need replacement pairs.

(Cherlou is making the brown/blue sandal.)

I'm quite happy to support this neighborhood shop, which I walk by everyday on my way to and from work.

A Visit to My Local Cordwainer

Cherlou and I have been conspiring over email: shoe ideas have been discussed, pictures have been sent, measurements taken, sandals, boots (not for me because it makes no sense in this climate).

Cross your fingers.

Railing

via SEA Globe (Ryan Plummer)

I love railroads, trains, and overland border crossings via this mode of transport. The thought of sitting in a train compartment for hours or days, staring outside as the scenery slowly dissolves with the trains' slow sideward movements, makes my heart skip a beat. For me, few things will ever match the experience of trans-continental train travel.

And so it is ironic that I spend so much of my time on a project that would potentially halt the development of an inter-Southeast Asian railroad system, a system of linked rails that could one day transport me from Singapore to Scotland.

But this idea of economic development can-- must --be done responsibly, yes? It's very difficult for me to meet the oft-silenced communities living on the rails, in their makeshift tin or wooden homes, in absolute squalor (or, equally, to meet those already relocated to sites, who relay stories of their children scavenging for food and water) and then turn around and accept that the answer to my question may be "no."

It makes me very tired. Today, I am very tired.

An article about the ADB-funded Railway Rehab Project of Cambodia: here.

The hills

From Connie: an image of the Portland West Hills. In the many Portland mornings burned into my memory, these hills greeted me, hugged by a fog, descending slowly, threatening to consume. Brisk and chilly mornings. Me: in my coat, dress/suit, tights, running to the office, the pattering of my heels resounding on the clean, even pavement. A hot cup of coffee warming my hands. The afternoon Mami and I cleaned up my office, I took one last look at those hills, drinking in that image one more time.

I found this picture of me and Mami from my last weekend in Portland, a weekend of brunch with the girls, coffee with the lovely Becki, and hours spent examining the Portland cityscape from various vantage points . Why does that weekend feel so long ago?

You ladies are on my mind on this Sunday afternoon, in this cramped coffee shop in Phnom Penh, where I am praying for a modicum of concentration.

Boeung Kak Lake

Remember this?

Well, on the ground, it looks like this:

Homes, businesses, lives buried in a deluge of pumped sand. Erased. The villagers have no other choice but to move.

Let me be unequivocal on this point: The residents living along this lake have established valid possession rights to the land (i.e., they aren't squatters), so their forced eviction, by this means and without fair compensation or any shred of due process, is in contravention of Cambodian law.

Ridiculous. There go my Friday afternoon daydreams of red lipstick, bicycle rides and ice cream.