Why didn’t my hostel tell me about this one? Where was this listed in the guide? It was obviously much bigger than the Night Market I’d just come from, so why wasn’t this one on my radar? Every few minutes, a nasty whiff catches you by surprise in Cambodia - something I’d noticed even as my plan descended into the country and got close to Earth.īefore I realized, I was at the entrance of another night market – one without a neon sign or stalls of elephant pants. Pedestrians strolling across the road are expected, runners are not.Ī foul smell kept creeping into my nose but I chalked it up to being just another scent of the city. In fact, I’m convinced that running across would simply get you killed because you’ll catch a driver by surprise. I learned quickly that the best way to cross the street is to just walk slowly and let the traffic weave around you. I made my way back to my hostel just after the sun set behind the tall buildings lined with thousands of telephone wires. Guilt struck me as I remembered all of the times I told friends, “Sorry, can’t go out eat tonight… I’m too broke” before going home to a fridge full of food. Cheap is an amount that’s only comparable to what is sitting in your bank account. Is it fair to think that Cambodia is so cheap, when most Cambodians are living in poverty? Cheap is relative. I swirled my US $1 vegetarian-friendly noodles around my chopsticks and wondered if I was being fair. “How can someone say this is cheap? Maybe it’s cheap for you – not for people like us.” I overheard a Khmer woman tell a tourist earlier that day, when haggling over the price of a shirt. I ordered a plate of cooked vegetables and sat down near a Khmer family on a bamboo mat, placing my shoes in a pile with the rest of everyone else’s. Despite there being endless arrays of elephant pants (pants you’d never see a local wear), I never saw another tourist in the market. Stalls of cute clothes, fancy milkshakes, fresh seafood – and even fresher noodles – line the perimeter of the marketplace. People like me are lucky compared to most of the world. People who flew to another country just for the experience of it. People who don’t catch or kill their food, manage their waste, or have epidemics of illnesses caused by unsanitary living. People who go to the bathroom in drinking water. People who cry when Cecil the Lion dies, and recant the horrible tragedy of it over a bacon-topped hamburger meal with friends (extra cheese please!). People who come from a world where pasteurization, gluten-free, and mandatory vaccines exist. It doesn’t matter that most Khmers cannot speak - let alone read - English because the sign is not for them. In bold English, the words “NIGHT MARKET” hang from one of Phnom Penh’s most visited attraction.
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