Observations on a Rainy Afternoon in Phnom Penh

I found myself wondering where I wanted to live this Thursday afternoon in Phnom Penh on the top floor balcony of street 242 house no. 53D. I’d grown tired of staring at my computer monitor, sending emails all afternoon, so I stepped out into the darkening sky and watched the clouds roll in and felt the wind pick up speed. I leaned over the railing and just stared out. How lovely it is to space out and observe life. It’s like people watching only people watching is usually done at a café, or a bookstore, or a bar—somewhere where you hope maybe someone is watching you too as you critically observe passers-by. I was watching life. Mottos roared by carrying a teenager, then one holding three school kids stacked like navy-white dominoes behind a driver, bicycles with baskets, bicycles with tuk-tuks out in front, a man selling what I hope are colorful candy packages on a cart, a woman rolling balls of rice and boiling them in water in front of her house, a girl in a red hat. A foreigner clutching her helmet hurries over to a corner where she can quickly catch a motto-taxi. In the apartment across the street, a child runs around in circles until he becomes dizzy and falls over, yells with delight and stands up this time with airplane arms to try once again. More slanted aluminum roofs in the distance, a few cement-white houses, clothes hanging out to dry… I look down and I my gaze is met by a perfectly white smile. I stare back, and sure enough, this cute Asian kid about 9 or 10 is smiling back at me, then he brings over his little sister and together they wave and blow kisses, and I do the same back. This is when I find myself wondering, where can I live in the world were the weather is perfect and I can just observe life and have the privilege of stepping in and out of it whenever I want? Are there such apartments with balconies in Karachi, in London, in Mexico City, or elsewhere in Phnom Penh? I flatten out my black work dress, click my little heels together and feel perfectly content watching people play basketball at the Olympic Stadium a block away. I don’t want to move from my spot, but the clouds keep rolling in and the lightning glitters quickly in the distance. Yet, nobody runs inside. It hasn’t poured yet, and until it does, everyone goes about their own business. A man parks his bike across the way and I see Tim drive into the premises on his electric green motto. Life goes on, and I stand still just watching, waiting perhaps for something? I feel a drop and wave one last good-bye to my new friends across the street before heading inside.

-Written from inside the Hagar International office, inside the Swiss Consulate in Phnom Penh on April 30, 2009, where it is now pouring outside.