Just a quick post to say "I'm back!" And what an adventure it was to get home. My new Khmer BFF Jimmy, his cousins, and my friend Yeme and I all went out for Indian food prior to me and Yeme heading out, and I had something that did not agree with me. I chicken-tikka'ed the whole way home, vomiting all 22 hours in the air. Fun times. But now I'm back, and my doggy is happy, and I am happy, and I took a hot bath (oh the wonder, oh the glory!).
Speaking of baths... Yeme (who was rooming with me for the last three days we were in Phnom Penh) and I were staying at a guesthouse down on the riverside, a lovely little place that was clean, super friendly staff, everything you could want and more. We planned on showering in the afternoon prior to getting on our plane late Saturday evening, in the hopes that we would not be too grody for the long haul back (ha, little did I know I would be puking my guts out the whole trip home). All was going according to plan. Yeme was packing, and I jumped in the shower. And by shower I mean I got under the detachable shower-head thingie that was installed between the toilet and the sink. The water was lukewarm, which I have learned is 'super luxuriously hot' in Cambodia terms. I was thrilled, you can imagine, when the water grew ever more warm, then hot, then scalding. This was fun! Water that's warm! Yea!
Except then the water slowed to a trickle. Then stopped. This was less fun. I still had shampoo in my hair, and soap all over my body. Less fun indeed.
Yeme called down to the front desk and they explained that the water would be back on in a short thirty minutes. Whoohoo! I wrapped in a towel and got to work packing, figuring that suffering any dry skin resulting from soap drying on my body was better than rinsing in the toilet water. After 30 minutes, no water came on but a knock came at the door. I opened it- wearing my towel- to find two Khmer guys, early 30s-ish, carting a tub of water between the two of them. A brief note on Khmer society and decency: me wearing a tank-top was mildly scandalous. The sight of me in a towel was practically pornographic. The two guy's eyes bugged out, and after a minute of stammering they brought the tub into the bathroom, along with convenient dipper. Good times.
So my last 'shower' in Cambodia was less shower, more 'dunk your head in a bucket Icthus music festival style', but that made it much more fun. Definetly a high note to go out on.
Grandma, if you're reading this from Heaven, thanks for teaching me how take a Polish bath when I was little. I hope you're ok with me changing the name to PhnomPehnPolish bath.