Khmer and United

The differences we have; by profession, by the name of our hometowns, by how much we get visited by people of other countries, by the resources our hometowns produce, by geography, by economy, by development, by progress, by education, and by everything else; however it is, we all know deep down in our hearts, we are the one and only Kingdom of Wonder.

We are the Khmer.

No matter what, how and why we are, as a nation, I know, you know, we all know; we are united, we are one, we are the Khmer.

A flag, an uniform for the entire country, we wear that pride, quality and excellence, we are Khmer, whether we wear it directly or indirectly, we unite as one. The only purpose I created this project was to prove that without flags, we have no colors to represent.

The National flag of Cambodia was adopted in 1948 and was readopted in 1993, whomever had designed it, I would like to thank you so much, as there is only two of its kind in the world, and we’re one of them; the meaning as well, these ain’t just colors, these aren’t just the “Roses are red, Violets are blue, and Angkor is white” kind of colors, but instead, it has the meaning as deep as the depth of the Pacific Ocean. Angkor Wat is the soul of the whole nation, we call it the box of souls, the integrity, justice, and Angkor Wat itself as one of the world’s most amazeball heritages. Blue means liberty, the freedom King Norodom fought for us, the sweat and blood, the passion that kept him alive every single moment, the spirit of a pure Khmer, and we shall pay as much tribute as we can; even if he has passed away, there will be a place in our hearts for him, as always, Our Almighty King Norodom Sihanouk. Red, the people, the bravery they have, the wars that we had, and somehow we Khmers have been brave enough to go through it, and Life went on, it’s as simple as that, because we are Khmer and United.

In my very honest opinion, I don’t think teenagers nowadays know or understand much about their own country, unless there’s someone behind pushing them and poking them, that’s how ignorant I was; but after some explanations on how important it is to know what on earth our own country, Cambodia is, I’ve finally started learning and researching about it, instead of knowing that there’s a Big Ben in London, a Whitehouse in Washington D.C., and a very big casino in Las Vegas, we should be turning our attention towards our country first, what do we have here in Cambodia? Any kool amazeball places? Why do Farang (foreigners) like it here? If it wasn’t for scrolling Facebook all day long, wouldn’t we know that our magnificiento Angkor Wat ranked first among Top 25 landmarks, surpassing Machu Pichu, Taj Mahal, The Effiel Tower, and many more? Would we know how big our country is if the teacher did not force us to research for it? Would we even think of doing it? I do not think so.

The League of Mona Lisa

The look always has been the first when it comes to women, with honest regards. its a reaction created by the society. It is the same society that created another category of women, the ones who makes a living. All the women are homemakers, and my love and respect go out to all and more to these ladies for they represent the very true undying never ending spirit of us, humans; a big heart that sacrifices without any sweat, shoulders that labor through everyday, faces that bargain every bit for every dime to make sure they go back home pocket full enough to send the kids to school and keep the roof from leaking and the room cold enough to sleep; if they were to assemble and compile a CV, there won't be much of a reason to deny the "APPROVED" stamp.

Mothers, the best of the many forms women take up in our lives, we, the sons and the daughters usually tend to consider them lesser than they are, we call for them when we need but we prefer not to look for them when we are with others, we tend to crave for others more than her company.

All of the mothers have done all of it for us when we were younger and they don’t plan to stop anywhere. But, as we grow up, we mostly want her to leave us alone, in most of the times of every day. We even feel as if she is disturbing and not kool and this and that. On the other hand, all she cares about is us. For all the things we need, clothes, pocket money, and all the others, we refer to her and the moment we get them all, we don’t refer to her any further. We hide things from her, choose not to share our days and thoughts and feelings as we grow up.

This doesn’t mean we all don’t care for our mothers in general. But, most of the times, it seems like, we don’t let her know as much as she needs to that we care for her as much as she cares for us, that we appreciate all that she has done and that we know how much she is worth in our lives; buying gifts and wishing her all the love and happiness and taking a photo with her only on Mothers day is the proof.

The Phnom Penh Souvenirs

the twists and the turns, the stare and the glare, the music and the steps, the outfits and the colors; no war or controversies could suppress, it came along with generations, with time and it will continue, the cultural dances and their apsaras.

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.

- Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom

it hurts more than the bullets, one world one race.

#Humanity

Yes, we are from different nations many miles apart from one another. But, there is a question I would like to ask. Do we live on the same Earth? i think so.

even Gods go to toul tom poung, from gold to silver to bronze to platinum to wasted metal, it doesn't matter what or how strong the power is, this will be where they reunite, God's World.

that was hundreds of years ago when they would eye on us but only for the meal of the day and it is today when we eye on them for the meal and the bag and the belt and the shoes and the table piece and what more!

mother nature has unlimited remarkable artifacts to showcase in her unlimited stores throughout the world, this one is from one of the stores of toul tom poung market; chameleon is one of those which has stayed on the shelves of her store since the jurassic era, the best attributes of it be the colors it possesses; they're the gramps of the gramps of the gramps of the lizard family; a skin that changes into colors of all shades yet has no race whatsoever, with a mysterious tail that grows back which unlike our hair and nails, they don't have to cut and trim; and a tongue that can grasp the preys so fast and so accurate that the prey don't even get to pray; this artifact is awesomeeee.

the preciseness that the artist has gotten out of his highly anticipated concentration, every stroke of the tools have made every pinch exactly the way it has to be, the time and energy that was used to perfect each piece of awesomeness, the meaning as well as the artwork itself contain lots of lots of effort.

they say music makes people united, of course it does, and in a very cool way as well, no matter what genre you're listening, which generation you are from, it is timeless, I could not have used was or is or will; music is a timeless and priceless masterpiece made by humans, having played through generation, they don't get older but become history representing how we have been expressing and sharing our emotions.

Currencies come in and out, go forward and backward, the current of the currencies flowing around the market all across the world, exchanged and used by all; and we have got bags of all colors and shapes and sizes for you.

Eysey grandpa with hanuman and co. have been co-dominating the stages since the origin of our great kingdom; their strong characteristics, attitude and pride outshines the bad and the worse and bring out the better and the best of our culture.

every entity is meant to be united, even them Gods; each and every religion has their own Gods of different faces, sizes, powers, and we pray to them in so many ways but in the end, there is only one purpose of doing so, we're all asking our Gods to grant us the good and the better and the best and keep us out of harm's way.

God bless us all!

our two hands, they do it all, from bonding to signing to praying to making to repairing to inventing to discovering; this asset is the key to keeping us on top of the chart, and we aint going down.

Let's do it all but break.

pottery is the ceramic material which makes up potterywares,[1] of which major types include earthenware, stoneware and porcelain. the place where such wares are made is also called a pottery (plural "potteries"). pottery also refers to the art or craft of a potter or the manufacture of pottery.[2][3] a dictionary definition is simply objects of fired clays.[4]

courtesy: wikipedia

......collecting!

Bangkok has Pratunam has Food has Hongyy.

This Khmer New Year was taken over by my friends and teachers and Koh Rong Samloem, so, here's a chance for mom and dad to make it up; Thailand was a very niiice choice, what a lucky bastard, I am.

Pratunam, Bangkok,  an area filled with khmer-ity, I mean you could hear people speaking Khmer everywhere around there, Sok Sabay!

With every corner of every street waiting to entertain Mr. Timmy (my one and only tummy of all time), it had already sensed the options available and started to juggle and rumble and mumble the Pharrell William track, HAPPY;  all hail the food vendors, all hail Pratunam, all hail Bangkok, the Bangkok Food Carnival has begun.

I have to say "NO!"  if you folks thought that it's a holiday where I could literally browse around anywhere I want, eat any kinds of foods. Dad got called up for a health check-up; drinks too much, no exercise, very great business for the hospital, so is the carnival the side effect.

Time in pocket after the check-ups wasn’t going  to get me the eagles eye view of  Pratunam; this place is humongous, sorry folks, I'll do it proper next time;  surely gotta have to keep this one sweet yet short.

Bus ride for 12 hours, 12 friiikiiin hours, it killed the Welcome-to-Thailand vibe, gonna cry for a flight next time; reading the never-looking-to-finish  Mockingbird, literally ate the whole 7-Elevens every time we stopped by one; cool pop, chicken nuggets, sausages, sticky rice, everything they had had me; I then did release several Deadly Toxic Flatulence Air Bomb, which means "fart" according to Skyrex from Yahoo Answers, bravooo...! Sleeping wasn't illegal for me on holiday, but otherwise very illegal during workdays, so I slept and slept until I heard “Swadi Khaap”, and we checked in.

Folks, different but together, it is all in here, I get to see and meet and greet Muslim uncles and aunts for the first time, I mean we have many of them there in Pratunam and was very excited to get to know them. Running all forms of business there including my soft spot, the banana pancake on wheels; Pratunam seems to be all set for my this trip.

Creativity sure creates crazy stuffs, foods inclusive.

Namaste, they greeted and we are seated at an Indian restaurant, dad kicked off and randomly ordered some incredibly AMZEBALL items from the menu that smelled like Indian spices. Just to make sure dad looks good, I called India (not literally), I mean my dearest teacher, who is an Indian, and he Wikipedia-ed me about what we were just about to experience – Mela, Indian word for a color-full carnival.

Dads wish list from the IndianMenu:

Papdi Chaat, an Indian F1 aka fast food, with curd as the gravy with tacos alike wafers crunched all over, chopped cucumber and tomato fighting for the dominant taste against the sourness of the curd, definitely skyrocketed my appetite, chopped or mashed potatoes fill the gaps between the wafers with chick peas, always served sprayed with chili powder and tamarind pickle paste; dad got this one right.

Masala Papad, very thin, crispy, salted, peppered, moon shaped and moon-surface like, golden brown colored Indian starter, definitely a solid contender for my list of all-time favorites, sweet and sour, the best of the two souls collide, bringing in the I'd-like-one-more-plate feeling, the main course would have to wait for now.

Chilli Chicken, an old timer with a classic look and taste, it has since been listed in my all-time favorites rite after the arrival of my Indian teacher, with spices that stays hot-damn on the tongue making it reach out for some air every time I welcome one of the pieces and so the eruption begins and the fight between the spices and the toungue while my tummy awaits with his heart wide open.

Biryani, to a Khmer, it could only be just another Baycha.

The only differences would be that Biryani comes with a lot more variety of ingredients such as nutmeg, mace, pepper, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, bay leaves, coriander, mint leaves, ginger, saffron, onions and garlic (I wiki-ed, there was no way I would have dissected the dish and taken notes.). It is usually cooked in butter and a typical Indian restaurant would use home- made clarified butter. The smell is addictive as the color is. It comes in dark mean yellow color with spices lurking you to test how much heat your taste buds could take. The main ingredient that sparkles the spices is the meat which in most cases, are either chicken or mutton (the lamb).

Biryani, to a Khmer, it could/should not be just another Baycha.

Last but not the least, please welcome, the heavyweight champion, Gulaaaaaaaab Jaaaaaamun; the golf- ball sized but sometimes smaller, dark red, melts with sweetest syrup filled in as lava which leaks out when bitten as happily as I get whenever I see them, a definite reason to finish the main course as soon as possible.

Namaste!

All spiced up, we checked our to-do-list and dads check-up was up.

So, dad raised his hand and a taxi drove in. I heard from my bad friend, google that the taxis here often turn their if-you-see-a-cambodian-please-do-not-turn-on-the-meter-and-just-ask-for-any-price-you-like mode every time they see one; dad’s “Swadi Khaap” exposed us big time.

With some luck, we reached the Ramkhamhaeng Hospital, I would like to pay tribute to the one who named it, should have abbreviated the name into RKHH or something like that, I mean I just managed to learnt to pronounce my Indian teacher’s family name. Hongyy sounds so kool, rite!

Mom and Dad talked their way in for an appointment for tomoro just like Jimmy Fallon and Ellen Degenerous; my little brother, Bob and I, in the meantime sneaked into the mart at the hospital and robbed the food bar. I went for kimbab with a cold pop and my bob went for a hot dog with lemon juice. And dad wanted to call it a day with a  fine dining at a place called, The Fuji.

Shall we or shall not have supper? I guess we shall. It's been a long way getting down there but the beloved Japs were waiting to make up for it with a table well set for us. Nothing from them looks harmful but full of love and care and joy and happiness; from the dried to deep-fried to the fried to the boiled to the steamed to the roasted to the grilled to the smoked to the last but not the least, the signature, the RAWs, OMFG! Oh My Foodie God, lets tabemasu!

The ever elegant, Shoyu Ramen!

A toothsome dish, it is. It is definitely worth staring at the bowl of Ramen and asking how it does what it does.  The collision of finely chopped garlic and ginger that I felt while slurping in everything, the undeniable taste of simplicity at its best, perfect way to start a Konbanwa (Good Evening in Japanese) and I thought I heard the chefs shout out, “Tanoshimimasu!” (Enjoy in Japanese).

The Fuji Sashimi Bento Set arrives next. It literally takes up quite a space on the table.  A thoughtfully designed lunchbox, it is, made especially for the foodies and the foodiest, God bless them Japs who came up with this divine set. I wish if I could go to my school with this set and shout out, “I am 14 and my lunchbox has California Rolls, Takoyaki  & Tamagoyaki along with Fried Salmon and tuna and the Deep-fryers: crab sticks, sausages and chicken breasts.”

Note: For this menu, if you guys want to know in details, please wiki. I was well done and honestly just attacked all of it without Masterchefing it like Gordon.

I slowed myself down after the Bento and looked around while trying to unplug the food that got stuck in my mouth among my teeth and the jaws with my tongue. 

My digestive system works either just fine or more than it should be, I saw Fresh Sashimi taxing and I found myself putting on my seatbelt, all set to take off again.

This is the big boss, Respect!  It came in on its transporter, the wooden ship, tagging along are not only the Tuna and the Salmon but the Octopus and the Scallops too. This dish is as colorful as always as the Rio Carnival. And Crab Sticks are deliberately scattered just like the crew members at the Carnival for one of the same reasons, to take care of the kids.  If there were anything missing, them would be the fireworks and the drums and the trumpets. 

To me, how to eat is/should be as important as what to eat.

Step 1. Learn how to use chopsticks; the Japs will get pissed off if they see you with a folk

Step 2. Ask for the Wasabi, a must and other sauces as you wish

Step 4. Dip every bite in them sauce and Wasabi the way you put your feet in a cold swimming pool on a hot sunny day

Step 5. Please chew proper and if possible, smile as you chew as this could not be a bad day in anyways

Warning: Wasabi, looks peaceful with its green color and form, traditionally grated using a shark-skin grater (how cool is that!), is as aggressive as a hot mustard. Respect!

Happy Salmon Day, indeed!

Almost every dish had it, there came next, the Steak Version of Salmon. To many, it is a dish for the rich plates. To me, it is something that holds the best of the strings of my childhood memories. Otherwise, I don’t see it with an expensive price tag; I would always see from the fishermen’s side and tag it with life itself. Gramps used to buy me some and cook for me and those days would always end up filling me up with all the love and care that I needed.

Miso Soup arrived thick and strong with his pal, Dashi. Tofu and Wakame came tagged along, Tofu, as usual, spreading its scent while Wakame stayed quiet and sweet. I, as usual, showed my impatient-ness and attacked the Donburi, too soon too desperate only to end up gasping for air as Dashi literally burnt my taste buds, I had to call for SOS, gulped water as hurriedly as if I had found the oasis after days in the desert. So much for faking a tea specialist!

It was around 08:30 pm when we arrived at Fuji and there were crowds lined up then and there were crowds lined up when we left as if an iPhone was going to be launched. This place is another proof that customers come where quality is, not that the quality comes where the customers are. There aint no class division at this place and everyone with a heart is served as well as anyone else.  Fuji rocks, definitely a place to be deja-vu-ed!

Good Night!

Good Morning!

Needed to digest all the food that I have gulped in so far; headed to DreamWorld!

It is an amusement park in Bangkok that everyone in Bangkok and everyone who has been to Bangkok are aware of, and so it has all the rides one could expect at an internationally acceptable amusement park.

However, the only feature that it had that day that no other amusement park in the world would have had that made me understand the value of one of those moments that make us realize how priceless our families are;  to put my arm around dad’s shoulders and walk along and talk as informally as we could like a friend.

Headed for second phase of Checkup for dad since he took the full-body-health-check-up option, and what we did were same as usual as well, I went for Kimbab and cold pop, Bob went for hotdog and lemon juice, again, we call this Calori-fied Drugs, pretty addictive I guess.

We taxi-ed out of the hospital, google-translated myself and managed to pass on to the driver, the coordinates of a Cantonese restaurant at the Chinatown that a fren of my dad’s suggested.

The way in to the Chinatown was as crowded as I expected, people in lines waiting to grab seats and eats, both Farangs and locals (including other Asians). Noisy, smoky, humid, colorful, bright, crowded, festive kind of environment it had.

By the feel and the fragrance of the entrance, I was in no ways, not excited. And, dad seemed more so and went ahead with the menu and ordered and we ended up eating a Half-Cantonese-Half-Thai meal. It wasn’t that bad and it wasn’t that good either, I aint eating that again, dad.

On the contrary to how I felt on the way in, after the meal we had, I could imagine a poor chicken hit by a bicycle and why so it was crowded.

Taxi-ed back to the hotel, the driver wanted to show off and so we took the highway and so we got stuck in a great traffic and it was ten at night and so my brother and I made a wish for flying pigs to come pick us out of it.

Her Majesty demanded that she should have me get some water from the fountains of the 7Eleven and that should call the night. And, so I got her Majesty the water and was kind enough to get some Kimbab for the guard, Mr. Timmy, as he stays up the whole night.

I slept on the floor, Bangkok was overcrowded as always. That brought me back to reality, her Majesty became my mom and the floor became the bed.  The day had me all and the pillow had me all too, I drooled all over it. Mom joked, “It rained pretty hard last nite, poor pillow!”.

Good Morning!

All came back to senses late; Dad, to my surprise, let the Sun win for once.

We woke up to the classic Thai breakfast with the star, Thai noodles in thick broth, deep-flavored hand-made noodles. 

I typed, “We need to get a bus to the Aquarium.” in the google translator. 

Bob has been nagging his best for it and so he shall get it and so we spent the most of the daytime at the aquarium. I have been to few of the best of the aquariums the South East Asia holds and so, this aquarium didn’t excite me as it did to Bob. I would rate it 5 out of 10 plus 2 for seeing Bob that excited was worth standing by and keeping up with him.

The following evening was going to make my trip, only God knew.

Good Evening!

The Banana Pancake Guy (BPG) and (H) hongyy's conversation:

The moment when he caught me staring at his pancake.

BPG: hey hey hey... Shupa Di-li-shoes (super delicious) pancake, 40 baht, 40 baht...

H: hellooo, can you please gimme three banana pancakes?.. (*whispering to myself, one for mom, two for me), okayokay, gimme three please.

BPG: okokok, three? okokok, pi-lise weight (please wait)...

H: *smiles like an idiot, probably was too excited to see Mr. Pancake again, soooo emotional, heheh.

BPG: *ignored me and CONCENTRATION MODE ACTIVATED

H: *waiting eagerly like a dog with its tail swinging 360 degrees,  staring at its food being cooked right in front of him

BPG: ohh... no more banana, wait here ok? I go to 7Eleven and buy, ok?

H: no noo nooo neeeed, just get me what you have left, hehehe.

BPG: sorry ahh Sir! I'll add one extra piece of dough to the pancake to make it fair, 40 baht sir, I dun want take much money from tourist.

H: *thinking real hard, this guy is actually very niiice, kool kool; alright ….alright, that's khooo (cool in british accent).

He took around 3-4 minutes flapping and whirling the dough, 2-3 times more of banging the eggs and spreading them all over the pancakes.

BPG: extra eggs for you too, hehehe, you ah (are) my last customer, thank you.

H: thinking real hard again, woh this guy is no doubt a kool guy for a street vendor, hmm... (sign of hardcore appreciation); oh oh, niiice, niiice, thank you too for the eggs and all, Thailand has some classic late-night snacks, *thumbing up for him.

Can I take a picture of you?

BPG: why not? sure…sure you can.

So I took his photos and decided to put it as a cover for this article in the website, he deserves it.

Certain times bring together certain people at the same place though a certain thing. Banana pancake has been an amusement to me since my first KPS trip with my teacher and it has followed me here to Pratunam too.

Deja vu; things, in some ways, seem as if they happen as if they have been planned from years ago. And simple kind acts make these things worth talking about.

I haven't met him before and he hasn't either and we bumped into each other over a banana pancake. The greeting, the simple conversation over what I wanted and what he wanted to offer and what I got which was more than the money i paid for, i wondered if he does that to all or i was the customer he chose to impress; in both the cases, i am the one being served and i couldn't have thanked him enough for what he got me that day, one more reason to believe in humanity.

This is the last night in Bangkok.

The latter half of the evening went as simple as it could be, simple dinner and early to bed. Our bus back to Phnom Penh was scheduled at 02:00 am and mom had her Mommy-Alarm set. Waking up to the midnight alarm was another story, I could almost use tooth picks to keep my eye lids up and open.

Checked out of the hotel and got on the bus only to find out that the bus was super nice with very stiff seats, nice not-working-ac set in “lukewarm” mode and we had almost 12 hours to burn in it.

I stayed focus somehow and continued my deep meditation and closed my eyes. 

Everest climbers wake up to Mt. Everest while hongyy woke up to the boarder of Thailand and Cambodia, Poi Pet; see you soon Cambodia. The bus from Poi Pet to Phnom Penh was the best ever 7-hours-bus ride I've ever got on to, three stops as precisely as I would have wanted, breakfast with Bay Sach Jruk (pork chop rice), lunch with tons of various Khmer dishes with some I could not even pronounce their names, and a snack station selling coffee, good lord, one of those and I was up and running, I mean I ended my meditation mode and woke up wide open and read a bit.

We arrived home around 05:00 pm due to the halts we made, to be precise, we tuktuk-ed back home safe and sound, but the worn-out-ness struck the moment we got home. Dinner followed with beef noodle soup with extra meatballs from a nearby food vendor; no more hustling!

I got into my room with mixed feelings, yet another trip has ended and so, where to next?

Good show, Jolly good show.