SIHANOUKVILLE

The weekend, it would seem, has finished off the volunteers. Halfway through: "Now how do you think you spell it? 'Th' 'th', what two letters make a 'th' sound?" I had to go off and find reinforcements from the volunteers who lay sprawled out on their beds. A weekend of buckets (as it sounds: buckets filled with whiskey, red bull and coke) has diminished motivation somewhat...

We left school on Friday lunch time and took the 4 hour bus south to the coastal town of Sihanoukville. The town itself is rather non-descript but the beach, scattered with guesthouses and bars is quite nice. Not a patch on Thailand, I am told, and we were unlucky with the weather but a good time was had by all, as is often the case when the company perhaps makes up for what was lacking in the scenery.
We arrived to an overcast afternoon, booked ourselves onto an island tour for the following day, and said a prayer, before heading out to celebrate our arrival... Why is it always hard to resist plunging into the sea at stupid o'clock in the morning when it is pouring with rain?
The following morning we crept tentatively out of bed and onto the boat, some looking a bit green, and eyed the sky hopefully for patches of blue. For the most part of the day we were fortunate. We snorkeled in the sunshine and peered at rather unimpressive coral (Belize is a hard act to follow) and then sat and sipped Beer Lao (hair of the dog) on a white sanded island surrounded by turquoise water and watched the dramatic storm clouds gather on the horizon.
We chased the storm home again and only once we were safely stowed back in our rooms for 'nap time' did the heavens open and the thunder had our windows rattling. In between rain bursts we dashed out to the bar for round 2.

Sihanoukville is as famous for hawkers pushing souvenirs as Siem Reap and, once again, I marvelled at the level of English and salesman banter possessed by these miniature adults.
A little girl, who looked about 8, squatted next to me sucking thoughtfully on a straw and pointed to my legs. "I do for you, no problem." I guessed she meant hair removal of some kind so politely declined, slightly resenting her rather impertinent observation. "You want bracelet? I make for you?" I showed her my wrists and ankles, already adorned with trinkets from previous adorable children.
"I have no money" I told her. She studied me suspiciously and smiled slyly.
"If you have no money, how did you get here?" Ok, she had me. I have become all to familiar with these kind of conversations and persuaded her that nowhere within my towel or bikini was there any cash. She relaxed and settled down for a chat anyway. She was 12 and spoke Thai, Vietnamese, English, French and Swedish and had an extensive knowledge of their vital statistics such as populations and capital cities. I tested her for a while, finally decided that she was much better informed than me and we both bid each other "Good luck to you." This was one of the more pleasant experiences. Some of the kids are aggressive and can get nasty. "Vietnamese" the Khmer confide to me with a knowing nod. Funny how neighbours always hate each other. The Cambodians and Vietnamese are still at daggers.

We returned to Phnom Penh last night. For me and Philip, another volunteer, it is our last week before we head off to Vietnam. 4 more days of "No, that's not a preposition is it? That's a noun. Spell it out." And I think I'll miss it. Time is going fast!