Down Into The Rabbit Hole (or Charlsea in Wonderland)

You just never know what you are getting yourself into overseas. A short walk ends up being a long, rain-drenched expedition. A trip to the store can turn into an almost hallucinogenic event. And a simple meal is rarely ever simple. So I've taken to calling PP the Rabbit Hole because if you remember the famous book or cartoon movie by Lewis Carroll "Alice in Wonderland" - an unsuspecting white girl falls down a rabbit hole and ends up in a world where crazy things are always happening and nothing makes sense. Thus the comparison to PP...

Today’s entry is just a few Rabbit Hole experiences for you. It starts in restaurant here in PP, wonders through the countryside and ends, for now, on a little dirt road so far off the beaten track that only the unexpected is really expected. Let’s get started, shall we?

Last Friday I accompanied two friends – Molly and her Turkish friend – to the only North Korean restaurant I’ve ever heard of. The North Korean restaurant is exactly what you would expect from a place run by the super secretive country that has effectively created a thick barrier between itself and the modern world. It's a low lying building with thick curtains on the windows and when you enter the door it is literally like falling into another universe.
The room is large and everything is sparkling clean, right down to the women waitresses who look like they must have been chosen based on their identical, childlike innocence and doll-like looks. They are all wearing pretty pink taffeta dresses that seem to be made for dolls as well - they are frilly and fluffy, not trashy or even remotely modern like the other dresses one sees on restaurant ‘hostess’ in this country. At the front of the banquet hall-like room is a stage where these pretty Korean china dolls sing karaoke as if they are performing for the Pope. They never - NEVER - stop smiling. It’s like the Bedford Wives of Asia. And then there is the serious proprietor who walks around looking disgusted with everything the girls are doing. We even saw him shove one of the girls out of the way for doing nothing more than standing inappropriately in his path.
The clientele is mostly Korean men with a few weird white guys - and us, of course. Everyone was overly friendly. We ordered family style and the food was absolutely delicious. Our three waitress (I mean it is necessary for each person at the table to have a waitress after all) hovered around us - literally right over our shoulders - and watched every bite we took. Uncomfortable to say the least! Alice must have felt just like this when she ate with the mad hatter...
After having our fill of wonderful food and close supervision, we departed with fanfare from the waitresses who ran to the door in their pretty little high-heals to wave us goodbye. Rumor has it that they are not allowed to leave the premises of the restaurant and, based on the way they watched our every move and stared at our clothes and hair, I would believe it. It was like an insane world within an already crazy town.

Saturday morning I found out that I would be leaving Sunday afternoon for a trip to the villages to do monitoring for our Gender Awareness program. It was last minute but I was excited. A trip out of the city always does that to me.
Sunday afternoon we traveled out to Kampong Speu (fun to say - it's like spew but drop the w and drag out the eeeuuu). Monday morning was a village meeting with about 20 ladies. I didn't have a translator but I was there to monitor the meeting and see the interaction between our staff and the villagers so it was good. I did cause a ruckus when I got up to give my seat to a woman who arrived late and her child burst in to maniac tears at the sight of me. Oh and I almost got attacked by dog who was determined to protect his owner's shop from the scary white ghost that I am... what can I say? I scare dogs and babies.
Monday night was the night of the cow. We traveled out to a haang baiy or restaurant outside of town. There were little 'gazebos' - you know the Asian type that is made from bamboo and with a roof of palm leaves - that were precariously balanced off the edge of a ravine overlooking a mucky, doubtlessly malaria infest river below. I was pretty sure my giant western self pushed the weight limit for the whole structure and remained on edge until the waiter started delivering Angkor Stout beers in a 5 gallon white bucket. My hosts (co-workers and village staff) then asked me if I liked cow. Now, here was funny question because they had ordered me lok-lak just the day before, which I know is made from sik koh (or literally, meat of cow). I answered that of course I liked cow... Oh the things that are lost in translation! When he asked did I like cow - he meant did I like all of the cow. ALL of the cow.
The first plate was stacked high with tender strips of beef, like fajita meat, and it was yummy yummy. I covered them with the most delicious sauce - basically, from what I can discern, the sauce is actually fresh ground pepper, salt and other 'seasonings' (aka msg) which is served with fresh sliced limes that you squeeze onto the power and mix with sliced peppers. I love it. So plate one of cow is done - and it was great.
Plate 2 of cow was piled high with 'parts' – I could make out chunks of liver, intestines, kidneys and some whitish strips with what looked a bit like honeycomb on one side. My hosts smile approvingly as they shovel a few pieces onto my plate. I’m a good sport (and as my mom pointed out this morning, that's probably why I have worms) so I dug right in. Part number one - tongue. Not bad, quite firm and tasty. Part number two - liver. I've never liked liver (Granny would be so disappointed, I know...) and that apparently hasn't changed from one country to the next. Part number three was the whitish chunk with the honeycomb side - I took a bite and struggled a bit to swallow. Come to find out, I’m not a big fan of cow stomach either. Who knew? Oh but it got better...
My host happily tells me there is one more plate. At this point, all I can think about is how wonderful an ice cream cone or some nice greasy fries would be - but instead I get the main course - cow brains. Actually, a cow brain - the entire thing, brain stem and all - is plopped down in front of us. It had nice garnishes of Chinese parsley and was served on a bed of fresh cucumbers. Regardless of those attempts to 'church' it up - it was a brain - like something off a medical movie or horror flick - and then we all dug in. Watching six people talk and laugh as they tear apart a brain - regardless of its origin - is wrong and weird. They should cut it into chunks before serving it like that! But yes - I ate a bite. Actually, I ate two. It was far better than the stomach and liver and far worse than the yummy strips served at the beginning. It took at least two more Angkor Stouts to wash away the icky feeling but all it all - it was worth the story in the end.

Day two in the villages didn’t give me much to talk about other than meeting a Cambodian village chief who was very excited that I was from Tex-az. The meeting held that day was at a pagoda and I spent most of it watching monks as they did gardening and being stared at by the local orphans who seemed quite happy to sit a few feet from wherever I happened to be and stare without blinking for hours at a time. It was a bit like the Korean place without the pink taffeta.
On our way back through the meandering red dirt roads, two large figures appeared in front of house draped festively in bright yellow and pink silk with a live band playing screeching Cambodian tunes. The figures were like those you see in a parade - larger than life characters depicting a man and a woman. They wobbled uncertainly in the middle of the road as if the two tiny people inside them were attempting to dance without much success. I asked what this was all about and my driver said "Oh yes this happens a lot in Cambodia!" As if that explained exactly how two brightly colored parade figures fit for Mardi Gras arrived in the absolute middle of nowhere, Cambodia. And maybe it does. After all, as the Cheshire Cat said in Alice in Wonderland, "We're all mad here." I think maybe Mr. Carroll must have spent some time in Cambodia...