Amnesia on a Friday Night

After a long week at work for Fred, we decided to go out for a drink after supper at home with the kids. We left the children in the care of the security guards at the apartments, and headed out into the soft, sultry heat so characteristic of evenings in Phnom Penh (it reminds me a lot of Louisiana). We made our way through the eager cries of “tuk tuk, sir?” just outside Embassy Place, and strolled unhurriedly around the corner and down the street to Flavor’s Restaurant, a street café that we have taken a particular liking to, mainly because of a drink they serve called “Amnesia”. It is made with Tequila, Cointreau, Grenadine and fresh passion fruit. Tonight, this was just what we needed to unwind! It was only 7.00pm, but the night swathed us in its veil of warm darkness. In the shadows, beyond the branches of a tree we could hear some muffled voices, and as our eyes adjusted to the dark we could distinguish several figures – three, maybe four – sitting on the balustrade of a balcony. There were also several people sitting on the sidewalks and leaning up against the walls. Cambodians spend most of their time outdoors, grabbing a seat wherever they can; on the edge of the sidewalk, on the street, or napping in a hammock that they attach between any two objects that will carry their weight. We emerged from the dark, quiet street, to the slightly busier street 51, and crossed it and found a couple of seats at the bar. The contrast was, once again, startling. Flavor’s is a favorite with the expat community, and the clientele is exclusively made up of foreigners who, just like us, seek out places like this. Why do we go here, and not mingle with the locals? I don’t know. Maybe because they don’t make Amnesias in places for locals. Or maybe because it’s reassuring to be in a place that is vaguely reminiscent of the places back home. One can only handle so much culture shock.