Expat Expert

After almost four months here, it's easy to forget how different things are. Sure, I know that when I visit the US in August I'm going to have a huge culture shock. But I forget exactly why, until I get those great little reminders.
New expats are great reminders. I've met three in the last week, and my friend Erica and I have been showing them the ropes. For example, after yesterday's Hash (www.p2h3.com), I crossed the street. When I reached the curb, I realized that my new friend Claire was petrified on the opposite curb. I forget how terrifying it is to walk through six or eight lanes of motos. I don't know why, but it's made quite an impression on me.
I've also started trying to bargain in Khmer. It's easier than you'd expect. I'm getting pretty good at the numbers, and everything else can be done with sounds. A whistle at the starting price, then a counter offer, much lower. A groan, then a second counter offer. A long "hmmm," then shake your hands in the way the locals do, which means something like "I don't have," or "I cannot." Finally, start walking away to get their final bid. Number of Khmer words spoken: 7. But I'm getting good enough that it's finally cheaper to cook at home than eating out. And if you speak even a little Khmer, the price does drop a bit because you're not a tourist. Moral of the story: It's only a little about what you say. It's more how you sound and how you look. And if you sound like you understand the language, the price gets lower. Of course, if you look as white as I do, the price will still be high. But that's not changing.
Finally, I'm still a deputy director of something. It's clearly a bad idea, but they continue to mistake my English skills for intelligence. Unfortunately, they've expanded to facebook. It's only a matter of time before my boss finds the wrong photos. Nothing good can come of this.
Basically, nothing interesting has happened since I rode that elephant. I guess we can't have jungle adventures all the time. But when you get down to it, hopping on the back of a stranger's moto, when said stranger doesn't speak English, is always a kind of adventure, I guess. Tune in next week, because you'll never know when I'll eat balut- a duck egg with the fetus developing (it almost happened yesterday).