We woke up early to avoid the heat of the previous day. Before leaving, the landlady kindly gave us back the homemade muffins that we had brought to the house as a gift last night. Although they were from the shop in front of hers, they were still foreigner food. The landlord was suspicious against the muffins’ paper; he knew some cases, it could be dangerous and produce stomach-ache. After insisting several times on that eating the paper wasn’t necessary and that it was only there for them to be cooked, the unwilling lady, cursing her husband (who didn’t dare to try a tiny little bit), had a small piece to be polite. Very happy, we had them for breakfast accompanied by some bananas and hit the road.

The lady said goodbye from the door looking at the sky and telling us something about the water; we greeted each other for understanding she was referring to the drizzle and we tried to remember the words for it. Five short minutes later we realized two things: we couldn’t say drizzle in Khmer and the lady was just trying to tell us that it was about to rain. And it rained. It rained all the way surrounding the huge pond and beyond; it rained in our first day through paths and we were suddenly like pigs playing in the mud. We kept on going ahead. It stopped raining. Thanks God. After 40km we met the asphalt again and the emotion allowed us to go for other 20km until we stopped to have lunch… and for everything else because we were very tired. We spend the night in the only guesthouse in Thmar Koul, a hybrid between a dating house and a road motel at three times the usual price.
crosscultural missunderstandings

Date: Feb 19 Skills: ISL - LSE, ON WHEELS, the route

1 Comment

  1. mario
    Saturday March 15th, 2014 at 06:55 AM · Reply

    Que la crudeza del camino jamás frene esos impulsos culturales que lleváis a los pueblos y ciudades por los cuales pasáis.Siempre adelante a pesar de todas las inclemencias del tiempo.

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