April 13th (2020)

April 13th

‘The government of Malaysia has introduced a Movement Control Order that restricts the entry of foreign nationals until 28 April 2020. Under the terms of that Order, no foreign nationals can enter Malaysia.’

I am awake at 05.30am

Exiting Colors of Cambodia this morning, I noticed many leaves on the pavements and seedpods from trees tempting to trip me as I walk. There had been two days of rain and high winds and this has affected not just Siem Reap town but has had tragic consequences across Cambodia.

The storm has, apparently, damaged some 89 structures in Pailin and Banteay Meanchey provinces, which include houses, schools and monasteries. Seven Scots pines, and other smaller trees in the Angkor area have fallen, four at Ta Prohm, one at Angkor Wat, and two others in a village in the area. The heat had been rising for weeks, so the winds and rain come as no surprise.

8am, I am the only customer in the American cafe, ‘Common Grounds’, and yes I have decided to get out of my self-imposed isolation to get some vitamin D (sunshine), to actually see humanity, and to splurge on breakfast - a bacon bagel and two Flat White coffees (large, here we say large not grande or vento).

You know that part in a cowboy film, where men (and it’s normally mostly men) are sitting around drinking, gambling then, all of a sudden, the saloon flaps are thrown aside and a stranger enters. All talk stops. All eyes turn towards the interloper, some inquisitive, some a little hostile. Well, a moment ago, another Westerner entered Common Grounds. I swung around. Looked him up and down. Ha, suddenly I wasn’t the only white guy here. The sheer impudence. Of all the American cafes in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. Or something like that. Well, it’s not actually mine, and I haven’t frequented Common Grounds as much as I had in the past but, well, you know the feeling don’t cha? Well don’t cha? Good grief, there’s more of them coming in, one of each sex. I’m swamped with fellow white people and, like many people who have chosen to live in South East Asia, I’ve come six thousand miles to escape from them.

South East Asia is full of ‘expats’, expatriates. Westerners who have sought difference, and have tried to change it into familiarity.  I am suitably informed that ex is ‘out of’ and patria is ‘native country’, or ‘fatherland’ therefore to be an expatriate is to be out of one’s country/fatherland. But am I an expat? I don’t really know. It depends on perspective. I tend to bounce around Asia a bit, but I’d like to think of Malaysia as my home.

There’s an interesting short story by W. Somerset Maugham, called The Lotus Eater. It’s a quirky little tale about Thomas Wilson, the ‘Lotus Eater’ (expat) on the isle of Capri. In Western lore, the concept of ‘Lotus Eater’ (imbiber of a hallucinogen) harks back to the Greek poet Homer, and his lengthy poem the Odyssey (Book IX). 

Encyclopaedia Britannica informs me that...

‘Lotus-Eater, Greek plural Lotophagoi, in Greek mythology, is one of a tribe encountered by the Greek hero Odysseus during his journey returning from Troy to Ithaca. The tribe are basically ‘stoners’, getting high on blue lotus flowers, which were dear to the Egyptians. Odysseus’ crew get stoned on the lotus, and Odysseus has to, quite literally, drag them away to their ship (Homeric Galley). 

This story is retold in ‘The Lotos-Eaters’, a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

(The Lotos Eaters, 1832, Stanza V)

‘How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, 

With half-shut eyes ever to seem 

Falling asleep in a half-dream! 

To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, 

Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; 

To hear each other's whisper'd speech; 

Eating the Lotos day by day, 

To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, 

And tender curving lines of creamy spray; 

To lend our hearts and spirits wholly 

To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; 

To muse and brood and live again in memory, 

With those old faces of our infancy 

Heap'd over with a mound of grass, 

Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass!’

Okay, so now you know how my magazine ‘The Blue Lotus’ got its name.

This evening, dear Phanin (the baby twin sister by a minute or two) has cooked home-made Khmer sausages. I know that they are home made because her sister was videoing in the ‘kitchen’, earlier. I am so lucky and grateful to be able to sample ‘real’ Khmer cooking, instead of the restaurant food. I also know that it was Phanin who cooked, because there is a note on yellow paper, saying so. As well as being given the TV tray with ‘Pa Pa’ written in indelible black felt tip, there is Khmer rice, a rather cheeky chilli sauce, the aforementioned Khmer sausage cut into manageable chunks, and some veggies - a small raw aubergine, cut, some minute cucumbers and sliced green tomato. It is an amazing repast. 

Today’ spend is $17.60

Breakfast at Common Grounds is $10.25 for a (much longed for) bagel with bacon, egg and cheese, and two large Flat Whites.

Shopping at Thai Huot Market is $7.35, for Myojo Bowl Soto Ayam (x2); Abal Sachets Glace Pilee (I bought by mistaken, thinking they were sandwich bags); Lolo Rosso; Baguette (num-bang veng in Khmer), Dasani Water and a packet of small cucumbers