Expat Q&A: Just how charming Phnom Penh can be

In this series we talk to Cambodia expats about what they wish they had known when they first moved to Cambodia that they know now.

This week we hear from Andy Wenhlowskyj who moved to Cambodia in late 2010. He works as a business development manager with an Australian firm creating supply chain solutions for Australian retailers.

Andy receiving a birthday cake from an Angry Bird

Andy enjoying one of his favorite aspects of Cambodia: the angry birds.

MTC: Andy, what do you know now that you wish you had known when you first moved to Cambodia?

AW: “I wish I’d known it was dog soup before I’d devoured the whole bowl. 4 a.m., surrounded by tuk tuk drivers after a heavy night on the turps, the mystery soup came out as a snack alongside the jugs of beer we were chugging. They all had a great laugh as soon as I’d finished my soup and was innocently digesting dog protein.

I wish I’d known a lot more Khmer. “Can I get the ket loi please?” “Pull a bot saddam just here. Thanks, mate.” “I’ll have an Anchor Draft, mouy,” are all examples of how pathetic my Khmenglish was for a while. When I arrived people told me it was fine to speak English everywhere, and it helps Khmers improve their English skills with you. Pffft, what a slack excuse! Start learning the language and you’ll see that there’s much more enjoyment for both you and a Cambodian to reciprocally exchange language tips with each other. “Sok sabai?” “Sai sabok!”

I wish I’d known that what I considered to be enforceable traffic laws back home–such as obeying traffic lights or driving on the correct side of the road (or even on the sidewalk)–are considered to be mere recommendations for safe travel in Phnom Penh. You’ll be fined for more serious violations, though, like having your headlights on during the daytime, beeping your horn at night, and pulling a U-turn in the only opening of a road fence which has forced you two kilometres further than you had to go. Remember the big Lexus SUV (especially the one with red and blue registration plates) always have right of way–don’t test this one out, just get out of the way. Traffic at times may seem chaotic, yet it just works. You’ll notice there is no road rage here; be patient and just go with the flow, you’ll get to your destination just fine. DON’T DRINK AND RIDE. It’s so easy to get a tuk-tuk, just make sure your driver is sober as well.

I wish I’d known to master using the bum gun. I spent many visits to the throne just staring it down like I was confronted by a poised cobra, too scared to move or take my eyes off it. Everyone should try the bum gun. If you have no idea what to do, just ask someone you’re comfortable talking about your number 2s with. It’s also a handy tool to spray off your Pontoon feet, or after that awkward moment when you accidentally step into curbside rubbish juice.

group aerobics at Olympic Stadium in Phnom Penh

Sunrise and sunset are the best times to join in Cambodian aerobics.

I wish I’d known that sunrise and sunset is when you see just how charming Phnom Penh can be. Whether you’re coming home from a big night out or you’re just a natural early bird, you can see the city wake and swing into action from around 5 a.m. The air is cooler, people are heading to work or settled into their favourite street-side breakfast joints. This is the best time to get some grilled BBQ pork and rice down the hatch.

For sunsets, there’s even more activity going on: join a high-energy aerobics class held in the city parks, or for some tamer exercise have a hit of badminton, walk some laps around Hun Sen Park, or try your skills at Sey (Phnom Penh foot shuttlecock) on the riverside.

I wish I knew the formula to winning Connect Four or the dice game. Howie’s is a top after hours bar on Street 51 where everybody knows your name. You can play both of these games with the friendly staff. It’s a fun way to start or end your night. Good luck ever winning.

Finally, I really wish I’d known that sweat just happens to be a part of everyday life here. Embrace it. It’s healthy.”

The Khmer culinary mind behind The Empire

For Veasna Kay, cooking has always been a passion. He was raised in a family of rice farmers, but today the handsome 25-year-old has found his way to becoming a chef–a chef who has succeeded in adapting Khmer cuisine to suit the Western palate. His venue is the Empire, a cosy bar and restaurant on Street 130 that serves up a range of delicious Khmer and Western dishes. Run by Veasna and his British partner, Niall Crotty, the Empire offers fare from both owners’ worlds, featuring fish and chips and bangers and mash alongside Khmer curry and Cambodian rare beef salad.

Veasna from Phnom Penh's Empire

Seth Sina, aka Veasna Kay, the chef and co-owner of The Empire.

Veasna, real name Seth Sina, grew up in Kampong Cham, the youngest of six. As a boy he was expected to help in the family rice paddies with his brothers, a job that he abhorred. At age 12 he abandoned farming and focused his energies instead on the family kitchen, where he began learning to cook with his mother and sister.

One thing he learned was how to prepare a meal for his family of nine for less than 500 riel. He’d fish and catch crabs, harvest vegetables from the family garden and only need to buy a little bit of prahok, sugar and salt each day before he started cooking. “Cheap cheap,” he told me, with an infectious laugh that lights up the Empire.

Niall and Veasna, who’ve been together for three and a half years, were some of the first people I met when I moved to Phnom Penh, and their dinner parties were legendary. “I’m rubbish at cooking,” Niall confessed. “After we first met he said, ‘I’ll take you to the market and cook you something.’” The results were fantastic, Niall recalls.

“Later, we started having people over, just a few friends or couchsurfers, and eventually we ended up having giant dinner parties every week. People said, ‘This food is amazing! You should open a restaurant.'” Two years ago that’s exactly what they did. Their restaurant, with its intimate ambiance, still retains the feel of a dinner party, especially when Niall and Veasna are on hand to chat with the customers.

The Empire Curry

The Empire’s red curry, it’s currytastic.

Before discovering his culinary destiny, Veasna had harboured hopes of making it as a singer and tried studying marketing in school. It was only after meeting Niall that he realized his talent in the kitchen could become his calling. With Niall’s encouragement, he attended a local cooking school for a few months. He was top of his class and further developed his natural ability to recreate just about any dish after trying it only once.

In addition to Cambodian homestyle cooking, the Empire offers Western dishes that Veasna had never tasted, let alone made, before meeting Niall. In addition to standards such as steaks served with British-style chips and chili con carne, he sometimes brings the two cuisines together, as in his deliciously creamy beef pasta flecked with spicy chilies.

While the international dishes at the Empire are quite popular, for me it’s Veasna’s Khmer offerings that stand out. They are made with a Western palate in mind, sanitized of prahok and served without bones, but at their core they are typical Khmer comfort foods, satisfying and tasty. I enjoy the Khmer beef soup–with its delicately spiced broth and tender chunks of beef it’s not only nourishing, but sublime. Another favorite is the red curry, served with French baguette. “The first time we served it was as a one-off on Veasna’s birthday,” Niall told me. “But people loved it so much that we added it to the menu.”

Veasna smiled, clearly proud of the fact that his cooking, once so popular with his family, is now being enjoyed by Westerners who may have never tried Khmer food before. “When foreign people eat it,” he said, “they say it’s delicious.”

Veasna has moved on from the Empire and is now running his own business offering cooking classes and private dining experiences.  Learn more at Veasna in the Kitchen and check out his great Khmer cooking videos.

Homesickness sinks in

Marissa Carruthers is a freelance journalist who left behind life in the UK for the sun and smiles of Cambodia. In her column, she shares the ups and downs of settling into life in Phnom Penh as a new expat.

Phnom Penh: Starting to feel like home.

The Cambodian dust finally settled for me about two weeks ago and initially it wasn’t good.

I’d been so caught up in the excitement that moving to a new country brings that I hate to admit it but I hadn’t really spent that much time thinking about life back home.

In my first few weeks I was in holiday mode but that was okay because I hadn’t had a break in a while and after the stresses and strains of moving, I was allowed to take some time off.

Expecting the homesickness bug to hit around about the time serious mode switched on, it didn’t and I continued to relish in my new surroundings, still overwhelmed by the new smells and sights that bombarded my senses at every step on this new path I was treading.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the excitement started to wear off and novelty morphed into familiarity. I was suddenly able to cross the road in less than five minutes, I recognised the squeaking of the etjais calling for waste, I no longer stared in disbelief at a family of six sharing a motorbike or tuk-tuks rammed full of too many mattresses to count.

With my mind no longer preoccupied with Cambodia’s chaos, it had time to drift back home to the friends I’ve left behind. To the babies close friends had just after I left. To my family who were celebrating Christmas without me.

Thank god for modern technology and after several distressed Skype calls, a video call where I got to see one of the never-before-seen babies and several kicks-up the ass on Facebook – “stop whinging, woman, you’re living your dream, remember” was the sympathetic response from one friend – I managed to see sense.

My friends and family are all a phone call, email, Facebook message or Tweet away and best of all I’m in Cambodia, living a life I know I’d envy if I was sat back at home, plus as I flew into Cambodia after a few days away last week and looked out over Phnom Penh I felt a warm fuzzy feeling light up inside and smiled. This place is actually starting to feel like home.

Expat Q&A: 15 years in and it’s still amazing

Robert advises to learn as you go.

In this series we talk to Cambodia expats about what they wish they had known when they first moved to Cambodia that they know now.

This week we talk to Robert Starkweather, a long-term Cambodia expat who arrived in 1998! He found Cambodia’s lure irresistible and has now built a life here that includes a family and web design business.

MTC: Rob, what do you know now that you wish you had known when you first moved to Cambodia?

RS: “I arrived in Cambodia in February, 1998. I was just traveling and looking to spend some time abroad before getting serious about a career, life, etc.

What do I wish I knew then that I know now? In fact, after a bit of thought, nothing.

That is a big part of the allure of foreign places — it’s all foreign. Figuring out how this crazy country works is a fundamental part of the Cambodian experience.

I wouldn’t change any of it.

And even after all these years, most days the country still amazes me.”

Review: La Plaza Spanish Tapas Bar, Phnom Penh

Note: La Plaza is now CLOSED

Since Pacharan closed, Phnom Penh has been in serious need of a tapas bar. Latin Quarter sometimes does the trick, but expats have been bemoaning a real tapas bar. Enter La Plaza over the summer.

The outside of La Plaza Spanish Tapas Bar in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

La Plaza even (practically) looks like a real tapas bar!

I’ll admit that I was delighted when I first heard about La Plaza, and less so as I heard more and more reviews. Apart from the opening month or so (check out Lauren Crothers’ rave in the Cambodia Daily) La Plaza has been getting consistently mixed or bad reviews via word of mouth and HungryGoWhere. Some friends have slated it completely, others have said that it really depends on what you order–some dishes are delicious and others are disgusting. So although I wasn’t in any real rush to get to La Plaza, I finally managed to waddle over before the holidays and was pleasantly surprised.

A bowl of Salmorejo at La Plaza in Phnom Penh

Salmorejo, it’s like the gazpacho that tells celiacs to GTFO.

I ordered two of my favorite dishes, salmorejo, a soup made of fresh tomatoes and bread, served with hard boiled egg and jamon on top, and Mekong “boquerones.” Traditionally, boquerones en vinagre are small anchovies cured in vinegar and are my favorite thing to stuff my face with in Spain. La Plaza’s version uses a small Mekong fish instead and the locally available curly parsley. It’s not as good as what you’d get in Spain, but the fact is, the needed ingredients just aren’t available in Cambodia and La Plaza’s attempt using what’s available is pretty good. For $4 and appearing on the table with a plate of bread, it’s also good value. The salmorejo (also $4) was delicious and I’d definitely go back just for that.

The menu at La Plaza Spanish Tapas Bar, Phnom Penh

La Plaza’s menu: nom nom nom.

The place is owned by Spanish expat Javier Sola and run by his Cambodian wife, Sina, who lived in Spain for a year. What I’m about to say is contentious (but backed up by dozens of examples): when Cambodians are left in charge of good ethnic restaurants with little oversight, the results are almost always, eventually, terrible. While Sina is friendly and clearly has a lot of experience with Spanish food, the place could do with more input from Sola himself, if only to make sure that everything still tastes as authentic as it did in the restaurant’s opening months.

That said, La Plaza clearly has a lot of potential and I’m more than willing to keep chipping away at the menu–which contains 34 different tapas and several paella dishes, plus happy hour tapas and sangria specials–to find out which stand out as the most mouth-watering.

La Plaza Spanish Tapas Bar
22B Street 278, Phnom Penh
T: 012 825 443

la-plaza-tapas-bar.com

Review: Postcard from Nomad’s Land

A picturesque but nonetheless decaying dock at Nomad’s Land

Fresh off the plane from Bangkok, with a bellyful of that Cambodian breakfast of champions, pork and rice, I packed myself — along with Lina and two of our friends— into an aging beige Toyota Camry, the driver of which seemed none too pleased to be carting a bunch of pale-skinned Westerners on their winter holiday.

Our destination: Nomad’s Land, an earthy little beachside guesthouse on the island of Koh Totang, in the Gulf of Thailand.

Boarding the boat at Poyopone

Boarding the boat at Poyopone

Take a load off

Take a load off

Nomad's Land

Sign pointing the way to Nomad’s Land from the other side of the island

We sped out of the city on what I came to realize was a typical hair-raising Cambodian road experience, and through the ravaged Koh Kong province forests, along red dirt roads flanked by isolated stilt houses and the occasional bicyclist. At one point, we approached what I was sure was a dead end — a river bisected the road. We watched, across the river, as a diminutive barge about the size of two cars — and seemingly powered by an old lawnmower engine — slowly sidled up to ferry us, and our car, across. Eventually, we arrived at the tiny, trash-strewn seaside village of Poyopone, ramshackle except for the occasional black Lexus. From here, a small fishing boat piloted by two teenaged boys took us on the thirty minute journey across the gulf to Koh Totang.

Fish in the Sky

Fish in the Sky bungalow

Naptime?

Care for a nap?

The view

The view from the Fish in the Sky bungalow

Sunrise

Don’t miss sunrise from the beach — you can always go back to bed

For this northeastern-bred American, the trip to Nomad’s Land was nothing short of spectacular: the turquoise water lapping at the boat, the lush green islands dotting the horizon, the palm trees lilting in the wind, the gray, weatherbeaten dock extending from the shore. We were greeted on arrival by proprietors Ariane and Karim (and Nomad, the somewhat bedraggled but friendly island dog) who welcomed us warmly, showed us to our bungalows, and filled us in on some basics.

A shaded path

Karim walks the path — straight to the kitchen, and beer

Nomad’s Land is an eco-friendly guesthouse. In this case, that means minimal, solar-powered electricity (device charging hours are strictly observed, and the evening’s lighting is dim — don’t expect to stay up late here), composting toilets, rainwater catchment showers (complete with the occasional tiny fish!), and fresh, local food. The accommodations are minimal, but a step above the typical thatch-roofed bungalow. Lina and I shared the Fish in the Sky double overlooking the ocean — the porch outside was the perfect place to watch the sun rise — our friends’ bungalow had a fun little sleeping loft and second-story balcony. The food is delicious, the staff welcoming (when they aren’t all speaking French) and the island itself sublime. There are strategically placed hammocks all over the island — no need to worry about a shortage of relaxation.

In the kitchen

The food is simple, but well-made and delicious

Breakfast fruits

Gorgeous breakfast fruits

There are no other services on Koh Totang — no banks, no restaurants, nothing. (Bring enough money to get there and back — and pay for your stay — to avoid having to sheepishly hit up your friends.) Just jaw-dropping sunrises, phosphorescent plankton, and the kind of simple fare that’s easy to serve up when you’ve got fresh ingredients from the mainland and the sea at your feet. During communal dinners, we ate some simple grilled squid, curried yellow lentils, and other earthy, uncomplicated but tasty fare. The breakfast fruit bowls, topped with toasted sesame seeds, are delicious. (The regular and Khmer coffee seemed to be instant, which was kind of a bummer.) Anchor in the can is imported from the mainland — we spent a lot of time in the comfortable beachfront lounge quaffing brews while gazing out over the water.

Beachfront lounge

The view from the beachfront lounge

Pretty details

Pretty little seashell details

Pier

Take a long walk off a…well, a long pier

Nomad’s Land is a great way to spend a few days decompressing from the sweaty hustle of city life. (And if an ass-crunching car ride is not your idea of a great way to start a holiday, they offer pickups near Koh Kong and Sihanoukville as well.)

Nomad’s Land
Koh Totang
T: 855 11 91 61 71
nomadslandcambodia.com

Frances Duncan is a freelance interactive designer and content strategist — and the designer of the Move to Cambodia website.

Cool Cambodia

Marissa Carruthers is a freelance journalist who left behind life in the UK for the sun and smiles of Cambodia. In her column, she shares the ups and downs of settling into life in Phnom Penh as a new expat.

A monk takes a cool walk through the park.

Santa delivered the best Christmas present ever to Cambodia a few days early when the temperature finally dropped.

After weeks of being reassured the cool season would land within the next few days, I either trudged on painfully through the sticky heat or became a prisoner stuck in the confines of an aircon-cooled room.

Then at the weekend, I woke up and suddenly the temperature had changed. A cool wind blew and I actually managed the walk to get my morning coffee without breaking into a sweat.

Once I got inside and the daily chorus of “good mornings” were out of the way, one of the waitresses asked me if I was cold.

I struggled to stifle my shock because, with the temperature still stuck in the early-20s, this was definitely not my definition of cold. “Cold? Are you cold?” I asked to double-check I’d heard her right.

“Yes, very cold,” came my answer. Wow.

Later on that day, the security guard at my apartment block had the same complaint. “Very cold,” he said shivering as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself while I remained comfortably warm in my shorts and t-shirt.

Despite Cambodians complaints about it being too cold, I’ve relished in the drop in temperature.

On Christmas Eve I was able to enjoy drinks with a fresh breeze to cool me down rather than an army of cranked up fans and on Christmas Day, I walked off the hefty portion of turkey with all the trimmings that I’d scoffed at Paddy Rice’s along the riverside without dripping in sweat.

And best of all, finally the frizz that’s plagued my hair ever since stepping foot in Cambodia has disappeared. Long live the cool season.

Christmas in Cambodia: Children dressed as Santa Claus

One of the most magical things about Christmas in Cambodia is the local tradition of dressing children up as Santa Claus. (One of the others is the tendency of Cambodians to say “Happy Merry Christmas” to foreigners around this time of year.)

The origins of said tradition are unclear, but what is sadly obvious is that as Cambodia becomes more developed and its people more urbane, the practice is starting to fade away. So if you see a toddler dressed up like Mrs. Claus this year, be sure to wish her a happy merry Christmas.

Happy merry Christmas from your pals at Move to Cambodia!