Pure shores

In Cambodia the last quarter of the year is marked by a couple of long holidays, the first of which, called Pchum Ben happened last week. This is roughly equivalent to Todos Los Santos in the Philippines. The whole festival actually lasts 15 days but only the final three days are observed as non-working days. This is the time when most of the people in Phnom Penh (and other urban centers in Cambodia) go to their home provinces. Phnom Penh becomes a ghost town all over again. Think of Manila during Holy Week.

Last year, I observed this holiday by hosting a three-day eating, magic-singing, mahjong-playing, and alcohol-drinking extravaganza (chronicled HERE) that left me fatigued but fulfilled. This year, I decided to go out of Phnom Penh for the first time and return to Sihanoukville. Memories of my wonderful trip to Sihanoukville last June are still fresh in my mind, and I’m hoping to have a great time again in this visit. I told my friend D to include me in her plans of organizing this weekend excursion to Sihanoukville. We got a corporate rate in one of the bigger hotels there through the company that her brother works for. The seven of us (me, D, her brothers K and Y, Y’s girlfriend M, Y’s sister C and her boyfriend J) set out to leave Phnom Penh on the morning of September 27, Saturday. A was part of the original group, but became unsure because of her husband’s erratic work schedule.

As the only homosexual in the group, I braced myself to be prepared to think of ways to entertain myself in case things get boring in their company. I mean, this is not the first time that I’d been the solitary homosexual in a group. My last trip to Sihanoukville comes to mind (though the heterosexuality of that group is debatable, since I was able to bed one of them–but I digress). So, in order to load up on some good ol’ gay energy, I accepted my friend E’s invitation on Friday night to attend the send-off party he’s throwing for his boyfriend R. This was my chance to bond with my fellow homosexuals, many of which I haven’t seen in quite a well.

The party went well; I met some badly-missed friends (and saw some faces I’d rather see in hell–not that I’m going there, hahaha!) and I think I made some new ones. And I didn’t drink a drop of alcohol! After leaving the party, my friends R and T, along with new friends S and D went to have some hot bobo (Cambodian porridge) before finally going home at 3AM. I neglected to pack the previous evening so by the time I finished packing and showering (presumably to prepare for going to bed), it was almost 5AM. Instead of sleeping I went to the kitchen and prepared ham and cheese sandwiches that D asked me to make so we can have something to nibble during the 3-hour+ trip to Sihanoukville.

They picked me up promptly at 8AM and after a long-ish breakfast of coffee and noodles at a restaurant on the airport road, we were on our way to Sihanoukville. I don’t easily fall asleep inside moving vehicles so I spent most of the trip chatting with D and listening to my iPod. It started to rain when we were about 5km away from the town proper and the wipers of the van weren’t working. We inched our way in the winding road before we finally arrived at our hotel at about 1PM. Before we checked into our respective rooms, we agreed to meet on the lobby at 4PM so we can spend the rest of the day on the beach.

However, sleep deprivation caught up with me. In spite of setting the alarm on my cell phone, I woke up around 4.45PM and saw D’s sms and missed calls. I decided to lay back on the bed and just wait for any of my friends to call me, perhaps, for dinner. About 15 minutes later D came knocking on my door. I was going to the beach after all. The rest of them were comfortably seated along the beach, in front of one of the bars/restaurants that lined the area. Some of them had swam, while the others are snacking on grilled squid dipped in a sweet and spicy sauce.

After seeing other friends in various parts of the beach and having a dinner of grilled pork ribs, tuna, and shrimp, we decided to drink Vodka and Red Bull, which D said tasted great. Well, we tried it and to say that we liked it would be an understatement. Picture this: our group consisted of 7 people, and before the night was over we had downed 8 pitchers of this wickedly delicious cocktail. Lots of photos were taken to document our increasing degrees of inebriation; the kind of cam-whoring that would probably have to be suppressed if any of us would have a political career in the future. All my apprehensions and fears of getting bored proved unfounded and were washed away with the tide. And I slept happily drunk.

An unremarkable breakfast awaited us the next morning, forcing us to eat something else when we got to the beach. The day was largely overcast, but my skin felt the sun’s heat nonetheless. The waves at the beach were quite huge; I spent most of my time in the water dodging waves. I can swim but I’m not a very good swimmer. Around noon, when we got tired, D and I went back to our lounge chairs by the beach and sunned ourselves, leaving the rest of the gang in the water. A jetski sped off from the shore with a start, and I got up to look. I saw it weave through the group. It was then I noticed that they were farther from the shore than when we left them. I saw a couple of guys jump from a nearby boat to swim towards them.

I told D that I think something was wrong. I had thought that the jetski had hit one of them. One other guy, who probably jumped earlier, was clutching B (my good friend’s daughter) as he walked to the shore. The rest of them were heading back too. At this point D was also sitting up, and we exchanged worried glances. Two guys were literally carrying Y (D’s brother) to the shore. He looked severely exhausted. We later learned that the waves got too big and soon B was swept away. B is a good swimmer but she’s still a child so she couldn’t get back to the group. Y tried to get to her but he was overwhelmed by the waves as well so that he also needed help.

We were thankful that the mishap was a small one. I mean, if not for the tourists who helped them, things would have ended badly. Dazed, we sat around the beach. The weather seemed to agree; rained started pouring late in the afternoon and didn’t stop until the evening. Our plan to spend the second night getting drunk in the beach was foiled. So we decided to go to Sokha Hotel to watch the Filipino band instead. This proved to be a good decision because the band was great. And they sang my requested song–one of my all-time favorites (Neither One of Us by Gladys Knight & the Pips). I ordered a great-tasting cocktail called Planter’s Punch that provided a much-needed buzz. We went back to the hotel around midnight.

Breakfast on Monday, our last day, was very good. We headed to the beach right after eating to swim for the last time before we checked out of the hotel at noon. Of the group, only K, D and I went back to the water. The waves were still too huge for comfort. The rest opted for massage on the beach. It was raining again when we drove to Phnom Penh. The driver failed to have the wipers fixed so this fact added to the excitement of the trip. It seemed that we spent the whole time eating the left-over food that each of us brought for the trip. It must have perplexed the two backpackers that hitched a ride with us.

Before finally going home, we stopped at KFC to have a much-delayed lunch. This in spite of all the food (snacks) we had eaten while travelling. They dropped me at home at around 5PM, while it rained heavily. That night, instead of going out, I plopped into bed and almost immediately slept.

And dreamt of the ocean.