khmer song

Chann may be an honest and good technocrat but perhaps the award is premature. The pictures shows Phnom Penh's untreated raw sewage flowing into the river just a few hundred meters from PPWSA's water intake.
The most popular kind of bicycle basket here--almost all bikes have them--has a utilitarian shape and size, but they are made out of plastic, with slatted sides. Once the little slats start to go, the basket rapidly deteriorates. My basket had reached the non-functioning stage and I was also having problems with my gear-changing derailleur so a couple days ago—on New Year's Day actually—I pedaled over to the row of bike shops near the Capitol Guest House. I found a family of four--mother, father, and two teenage sons--who hopped right on my repair work and had it finished in thirty minutes or so. I asked for an extra big basket made of metal and they found an old second-hand one in the back of the shop and put it on, and then the father--definitely the repository of experience in the family—-started adjusting the gears. I paid them $3.75 and took off!

Nowhere near all the motorcycle riders are wearing helmets here and even fewer bicyclists. These four young people are all wearing the same model motorcycle helmet which suggests that they may all belong to the same organization that gave out helmets for free. Given that today is a Sunday, they may be coming or going to some Christian church service.
Today the temperature was in the low 90ºs F (33º C). This young woman displayed a common Cambodian fashion, though—a rather heavy, lined jacket. The intent is keep the wearer out of the sun so her skin doesn't darken, but more often than not, to accomplish that, young women wear what would be cool-weather jackets and coats in colder climes. They are so accustomed to hot weather that wearing a heavy jacket doesn't bother them.
Most of the people who die in Cambodia are cremated within 24 hours or so, but many of the families of Chinese ancestry prefer burial. They have their own funeral customs and practices, and one of them is using this ornate hearse to transport the body to the burial site from the family home where the monks led prayers. The monks sit on the stools and accompany the body to the place of burial.
I had to meet a Maryknoll leader from New York at the Phnom Penh airport and his plane was delayed, not arriving until 11:20 PM. To pass some of the time, I decided to get something to eat, but—as is customary—all the food in the terminal was really pricey, even by Cambodian standards. I had time so I walked 500' out to the street where the ubiquitous food vendors ply their trade. From the young man on the left, I bought an ear of sweet corn (delicious hot, even with no salt or butter on it), and from the woman on the right I got a Coke. The total was $1.50 as opposed to $4 to $5 inside. These vendors have their carts connected to motorcycles and can go wherever the crowds are.