picky foreigner

I’ve become too used to the ease of living in Phnom Penh. I am pretty spoiled, I must say. I have air conditioning and Indian delivery. Such a city princess I am that I’m out here in the Prey Veng province for a shoot and I’m whining about flying cockroaches. Psha!

My hotel in Prey Veng, a provincial town 2 hours outside of Phnom Penh, cost $5. I have changed rooms 3 times. Room number one – broken door. After communicating with 5 different people, all with progressively better English, I changed rooms. After a few hours and one Twilight saga later (don’t judge) I notice that the bed I’m sleeping in is totally infested with bed bugs/fleas/something nasty. And flying cockroaches are circling my room in a way that my loaded flip flops couldn’t keep up with. I whimpered a bit and went downstairs to ask for yet another room. At this point I really felt like a whimp tourist. Like suck it up and sleep with those damn bed bugs. Nobody cares – but me!

Many sohm –to’s (sorrys) and auh-kun’s (thank you’s) later, they bring me to another room. Another room with a broken door and cockroach living on the drapes. They sweetly hand me a beer and an extra sheet with a bloodstain. Good night.

The moment when you break down and realize that there is no way you’re going to get what you want by ‘foreign standards’ is comical beyond explanation. These expectation for our standard of living are so arbitrary and apply to such a small percent of the world actually live like that! I had to laugh at myself jumping around the room with goosebumps and a girly shriek. Alas, I'll going to enjoy that Ankor beer and snuggle up with a strangers bloodstain. Awesome.