Sixteen degrees
Shape without form, shade without color, Paralyzed force, gesture without motion – T.S. Eliot
This text is going to be a bit jumpy. Sometimes time and places are being mixed up and that's the way it's supposed to be. If you want a straight timeline - like: we woke up and went for breakfast, then we went for a walk, and then she bought some milk and I had a draft, and it was a lot of fun - you might as well stop here and now, because this is not for you. But if you choose to keep on reading, well here we go:
People flew away in all kinds of different directions. Torben, the Danish guy flew to Vietnam; Dave to China; Thomas to Thailand; Jade to the islands and Kate flew to Bali via Bangkok. She said,
”I'll be back in Phnom Penh in a month. I have a poncho I don't want to take with me – could you keep it for me until I come back?”
”Of course.”
As an afterthought she said, ”And if I don't see you, just leave it behind.”
It was a nice poncho. And a few nights ago she had said – now she was petting a cat she knew from previous sessions in the market on the other side of the river – ”I sometimes love animals over people.”
A lot of people did. And they were right to do so too, because Sok San Road was turning into a freak show. I just didn't realize it yet.
”Cats?”
”Yes”, she said ”– my favourite animals are cats. Then dogs. You're number three.” She laughed. She was watching me now and how I would react on her teaser. I probably dissapointed her by not reacting at all. But later I would tell her about the halal thing, just to see how she reacted – how they skin an ox alive, hanging on a hook, screaming in terror, even after they have cut his throat because they want to see the blood.
”Stop”, she said. ”Please, not now.”
She was right. We were at Natural House and the omelettes and eggs benedicts landed on the table.
We stayed five nights together in the same room so of course we talked. She said,
”People change. Everything changes.”
”How did you feel about moving out of your 250-dollar a month apartment?” I asked.
”Nothing." She had told me that she never looked back. Obviously there were some things that didn't change. "How did you feel about moving out of yours?”
”Yes, I was sentimental there for five minutes.”
”I wouldn't expect anything less from you. Look – what does my hair look like?”
”It looks great!” She was back from the hairdressers. The girl had straighted out her hair so it reached down her back. ”Which do you like? This, or the other style?”
”I like them both. This one in the daylight and the blurred hair in the evening.”
”It's not blurred!” She hit me on the shoulder. ”Blurred is not the right word!”
”Thanks for bringing it to my attention. Are you sure?” Maybe her hair was only blurring my vision?
"No. What are you saying?”
”I don't know. Something about your hair. You could shave it off and I would still like you. The night hair is wavy. Does it feel hot when it's like that?”
”Yes it does.” The air con was set at 16 degrees, on full blast and the room had a cool feel to it. We went to to the pool. Kate said,
”I'm not going to drink anything today because you know... tomorrow... travelling with a hangover...”
So I bought her four margaritas. Maybe it was the best thing to do. We were hanging in the pool area. Arthur was also there. He was waiting for his money. Kenny was waiting for his wife to arrive. And the rest of us were also waiting, for what, I don't know.
Kate said on her second drink: ”How come we have so many common friends and we never met before?”
”Because I hang out with these guys.” I streched out my hand at the round table that was the very centre where the tales of King Arthur were being told. That's when he was drunk. Arthur lit a cigarette for me. I was smoking and we were sipping on our margaritas floating around like on a water planet.
”How do you spell rhythm?” she said. Her eyes were miscallaneous. I tried it a few times until I got it right. ”I love you”, she said ” – that's a tough one!”
”Yes, it's high school stuff – Oscar Wilde spelled 'jail' as 'gaol', so the spelling changed so it would sound more like the spoken word – jail.”
This was the kind of small talk we sometimes entertained ourselves with, and she was good at expressing herself with the English language. And why wouldn't she? She was a native speaker. And she knew some nice words and how to put them together too. And I was happy she was not using the 'fuck' word all the time. She was working in Perth as a teacher with young criminals. She had told me she had been to fifty-four countries. "I lived in Hong Kong for four years. They kicked me out from South Korea because I was working without a permit."
”Do you know why some expats get crazy over here?” Kate said. We were having some Jameson in the room, taking silly photos with the gargantuan lamp above as. I'm not sure why the lamp was there and what it was good for.
But it was like with a lot of things here in Cambodia – there was stuff that just didn't make sense.
Kate explained it to me:
”... especially here in Siem Reap and sok San Road, where you meet individuals who change by the month, simply because they have nothing else to do but hang out in the bars. It's like they create a void they are filling with drinks and beers and cigarettes and joints. A void that was not necessarily there in the first place.”
I was thinking of a poem by T.S. Eliot. About the hollow men. But it was not the right poem now, after the drinks, because I felt like playing the ukulele – it should say – 'Mango, banana and tangerine...' The song from a James Bond movie. Dr No it is.
”You need to do some voluntary work now and then because otherwise you go crazy here in Siem Reap”, Kate said. ”I like your company. But you are totally crazy.”
”I'm not crazy – you are crazy.” But it was still a bucket of ice water over my head. It would take me some time to realize I was creating my own void too. We all did.
All of a sudden the people walking up and down here on Sok San Road turned into mannequins, wax dolls, melting away in the for everlasting sun, or, well, for another five billion years or so. This was in the evening but the air was still hot. And a month was five billion years away too. She said –
”A few months ago I broke a few ribs and it put me to bed twenty hours a day.”
”What happened?”
”I was celebrating on my birthday party; I was dancing and the guy took me too far so I fell over a table, at the corner, and I broke some ribs. I was hurt for a long time. You changed my life.”
”How?”
”Because you took me out. I didn't see anybody for two months."
”So, now that your ribs are okay, how about we take a walk?", I said. Would you like to take a walk with me?”
We took a walk on the other side of the river, with night markets, hotels, restaurants and bars. At Hard Rock Café a band was going all in. We walked on and there was a closed shop with a quote from Anais Nin.
”See that sign?” I said. She read it aloud – ”The only human abnormality is the incapacity to love.”
She had an answer to that: ”I love. I love cats and dogs. You are number three.” She laughed,
”Hahahahaa!” She thought it was funny, and it probably was too. What would it take for you to do something for me?
We had moved into the hotel connecting with Blue Bar and she was happy to use the pool. So this is the closet, – now, where is the room?
”Yeah, I know... and where is the kettle I was using the last time I was here?”
It was a nice room though, and there was a big balcony just outside the door. But it was steaming in here so why not put the air con at 16 degrees and go down to the pool?
Arthur was sitting by the pool. So was Kenny and Eric. Eric was a former English professor from Canada who had lived in Kuala Lumpur for ten years teaching at the university. Now he had been here in Siem Reap for two months. Kenny was still waiting for his wife to arrive. Arthur had no money so he was sober and attentive, listening to what people were saying.
I asked for a beer from the lovely waitress. I told the guys, ”I don't want any rumble from this table while I'm staying here.” They were a bunch of philosophers so they didn't take it too seriously. I sat down with them and had a draft. Pet Shop Boys were playing on the speakers, Always On My Mind. Eric's thoughts about the future with Europe, ”Where is the money to pay for all this immigration in your countries? Trudeau fucked up my country pretty bad.”
”Yes, thanks to the bankers. The World Bank was created by The Bilderburg group, and so was the UN. By Rotschild and their buddies. George Soros is doing what he can to fuck things up. Europe is going down the drain. We are looking at the New World Order.” It was another conspiracy theory but we agreed on this one.
I dived in to the blue water and stayed in the pool for the next few hours.
”I love this”, said Kate. It was around 36 degrees; the sun, the heat packing between the walls, the cool water all around you. We were floating. It was like the universe itself was talking to us at this very moment.
She said,
”There is a series on Netflix I would like you to see. I was watching it early this morning when you were asleep. Can we watch it together later?”
”Sure, let's do it.”
After four margaritas we were back in the room. We took showers. She said,
”I'm drunk now. I want to go to Draft Bar.” What happened to The OA, the tv series we were going to watch?
I hated Draft Bar, and so did everybody else I knew. But Kate. It was open 24 hours and I could feel the sad vibes from all the lonely people who came there all the time. There were sometimes people in a strange mood and it happened that some of them confused kindness with weakness. Mostly everybody was nice though.
”Why do you want to go there? It's funny – you call yourself an empath... don't you sense the strange vibes floating around there?”
”I do. It intrigues me. And the girls love me. Why would they love me? Are you angry?”
”No. I'm hungry. Which girls?” The drama girls?
”The girls who work there, the staff. They are nice to me. Then, there are all kinds of people – the prostitutes, the ladyboys and the customers.” She wrapped a white towel around her. We hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast and now the sun was going down fast.
”You go to Draft Bar and I go to eat something. Leave the key in the reception and I'll see you in the morning.” I left the building,
I met Torben on Sok San. ”Where you going?” he said.
”Red Angkor. Come with me.” We went to Red Angkor and he had a cup of coffee and I had the noodles. When I came back to the hotel I asked for the key to room 301 but it was not in the reception. I went into the room and she was sleeping tucked inside double blankets. The air con was at 16 degrees full blast as usual. She didn't make a sound. I wanted to give her some space so I went out again, to King Kong Bar.
Cats, I was thinking. Cats. Cats?
On the last day, when she had packed and was about to leave the hotel room she asked me, "Are you going to miss me?"
"Yes. And you?"
"Yes", she said. And I remembered the very words she lived by. Never look back.
The Perfect Storm
We never talked about Gordon anymore, so this is before all the other stuff happened:
She showed me the picture on her cell of a man in an orange dress. ”Do you know who this is?”
”Of course. It's Gordon. He's been around for years. He used to come all the time to the Same Same Bar. Haven't seen him for a while though. Why is he wearing the orange?”
”That was before, when he was in custody. Now he's back in jail. In the US.”
”What happened?”
”He was raping babies. He was wanted by the FBI for not appearing in court on charges of child abuse. He was on bail and he disappeared before the coming up on a court case on raping a four-year old girl. And he showed me photos of babies and he said he had nine babies, with different women.”
”What the hell? I didn't see that coming. Maybe he was raping the babies too?”
”Of course he was.” It was merely an assumption, but she said, ”Read the article.”
I did. There were the photos of Gordon along with the warrant – it looked like a poster in a wild west movie – Wanted, it said, with the details; Native American, brown eyes, six feet four, 265 pounds. The poster promised 1000 dollars to anyone who could give information about his whereabouts leading to his arrest. Somehow he escaped from the States and ended up in Cambodia and Siem Reap.
”How did he get out of the country in the first place?”
”You ever heard of people in high places in the US – politicians, judges, business people? There's a list, and they are all members of a huge ring of pedophiles?”
”Like Pizzagate?” It was another conspiracy theory, true or not, I don't know, but Gordon was very real.
”That's right. And that's how he could escape. But when the guy who was protecting Gordon retired, the FBI found out he was hiding in Siem Reap, and with the help of the local police they got him. He was deported back to the US. He's looking at a very long sentence”.
”He had a local girlfriend here, and they had at least one kid together”.
Kate showed me a thumb and two fingers – ”Three.”
”Must have been a shock to her when the cops came knocking on their door. How did you know him?”
”From Same Same Bar. I saw him abuse people around him, like a cat playing with a mouse.”
”It's funny. I never saw him do that. And he was always nice to me.”
”He was coming on to me, but I had this creepy feeling about him so I kept him at a distance. I guess he understood, because he messed up my hair and said, 'If I can't mess up your mind I can always mess up your hair!'”.
It was shocking. Absolutely shocking. And how come I never saw anything strange about this man. Maybe the beers had clouded my mind?
”And he was always nice to you?” she said ” – I saw him treat people like crap. How come he was nice to you?”
”I don't know. Maybe he thought he would lose?” I wasn't sure. Gordon wasn't a kind of a guy who would take a no for an answer.
”It could be true”, she said. The whole story was dramatic and I had to let it sink in for a while. I wasn't feeling hungry anymore. ”Let's go to The Temple and have a beer.”
We did. Later on our nights out on the town would be calibrating to the perfect storm and I loved every minute of it.
But now tears were beginning to well in her eyes. She said:
”I won this ping pong game and you did that! – l'm going home now!”
”Please wait. Let me explain one thing – what I meant was I want to play with you again.”
”I win every time and all the guys react the same way you do – they make excuses, because they don't think I can play. It's the only thing I'm good at and you wouldn't let me enjoy this moment.”
What I had said was, ”Let's do it again when I'm sober.” I regretted it when I saw her reaction. And it didn't work as an excuse either, because we were both drunk.
She had asked me, ”How do you look at yourself – as a happy or a sad person?”
”Happy.” I had a sip of the draft. We were sitting at one of the outdoor restaurants at the old market. I was faking surprise:
”Look – my glass is already half empty.”
”Hahaha!” Of course she knew about the half empty/full glass theory. Everybody does. I thought she was trying to pick my brains because she had told me that she sometimes picked people's brains just for the fun of it. It was a wasted talent. You pick people's brains only when you need to. Like when there is danger ahead. Some guy wants to fight you; you make them cry and they will buy you the next beer. There's nothing to it. It never happened here though. And maybe she just had spent too much time at the university anyway?
”Theories is not the reality”, I said.”
”Then, what is?”
She liked to compete. And she liked to win. I asked her to come with me and play a game of table tennis at Aura Bar. I thought I could win that one. But she took me to the cleaners.
And here we are.
Kate had the long blond hair that every local girl loved enviously; the smile; a face you could take a photo of, scramble it into pieces, put them together again and she would still be photogenic. The camera loved her. She had long legs that would happily take her for a ten mile walk any day of the week, and I should have understood there was something that was not a joke to her.
I had gotten my ass beaten. It was a good thing too. I told her. ”It's a good thing for my ego and it's a good thing for you too.”
”Why?”
”Because now I'll have to upgrade you, hahaha! I promised you a drink if you win. Let's go and get that drink.”
Guy was sitting at the bar. I hadn't seem him since last year. ”So, this is were you are hiding?”
”Yes. I don't go to Sok San Road that much anymore.”
”Good to see you mate. Kate, what would you have?”
”Jameson. With ice.”
She had told me she was an empath. I had to google it so now I said:
”Good for you! Have you seen Species?
”What is it?”
”A science fiction movie where they encounter an alien race that has landed here on earth. One of the members of the crew that go to meet up with the ET is an empath.”
”Haven't seen that one.”
First when I had met her she talked the happy talk, chatting away, like nothing really matters. Now she was more composed and relaxed. I asked Guy if he still had his blue motorcycle. ”Yes, it's here outside.”
”You have a motorcycle?” asked Kate.
They started a conversation and Lee walked into the bar. It was the same Lee who had been to Christian's place on the Mekong a few month ago when I also was there. ”I thought you'd gone back to the Mekong”, I said.
”I thought about it, but no, I've been here all the time. I'm staying here at Aura Bar. They have nice rooms. I've been sick. Gastric ulser.”
”And now?”
”Yeah, for the moment. I haven't had a drink for weeks.” He looked okay, a little bit worn out but the smile was the same, the smile of a skateboard pro. I wished him soon recovery and he grabbed a water and walked back to his bungalow.
Guy paid for his water or whatever he was drinking, said bye to everyone and started staggering towards his blue trike. He was holding on to tables and chairs on his way out. He had a balance problem.
Kate looked at me and flashed the empath eyes. We changed the subject. ”So, how many bands?” I asked.
”Six bands.”
A few days later we went to The Republic for the festival. Six bands were playing and we were there half past three in the afternoon. There was a beautiful garden and we were outdoors. The bar and the pool table were covered by an tin roof. More people were coming and almost everyone looked happy.
Well, it was not like, six bands. They just changed instruments with each other and called it something different. ”Cheers!” Cans were clinking to plastic mugs. We were sitting at the musicians' table close to the scene. We had the best seats in the house. I knew some of the people playing and Kate knew most of them too.
There was Dave on trombone, Cesar would soon join at the drums and Andy was the front guy. There was Ray on bass with a cigarette in his mouth and there was another fellow with a saxophone. They were playing reggae and ska. Message to you Rudy.
Andy was jumping around on the floor in front of the mic with an electric guitar in his hands. Now he was bouncing up and down on his right leg with the left one in the air, and when Dave with his trombone briefly exchanged a smile with the bass player you knew it could go either way.
This festival was about caring for the environment, healthy living too and only vegan food was served – and Andy, the front guy in the band, high as a kite fucked the whole thing up. The music would end with Cesar leaving the premises because he, as a pro, wouldn't tolerate Andy's antics. I saw the change with Cesar when Andy in the middle of a song ran over to him trying to show him how to play the beat by slamming the chords in front of his face.
Later Andy would burst into the bathroom, I was there washing my hands – ”Did I show any aggressivity on stage?”
”No. Not from where I was sitting. What happened to you guys on stage I don't know. I liked it. It was really good!”
”I want to ask you – did I show any aggressivity?”
”Look, I already answered your question. If you don't like the answer, don't ask the question.”
Andy ran out of the bathroom and when I came out he was talking into the mic so everybody would hear. He said, ”I'm gonna find two more bands for you!” He took off on his bicycle.
Dave sat down at the table. He put his trombone there too. ”What happened? I asked.
”I don't know how to say this...” He smiled.
”You don't have to say anything. You know. I know.” I glanzed at Kate. She took a sip off her Sangria. She knew too. And for a moment, a very brief moment, I was worried about how Andy was going to bring back two bands on his bicycle.
