KAMPOT; DOGS AND EX-PATS.

I had met a few people who had been to Kampot and been told that at night there were packs of dogs that roamed the streets and stood guard outside their owners property. Given my slight fear of dogs this was a bit disconcerting but to be honest I didn't really give it too much thought and wondered if these stories were somewhat exaggerated.


The road on which I was staying ran alongside the Teuk Chhou River and played host to many bars and restaurants. As far as location goes it could not get any better; as you can see in the photos, the river is a stones throw away and the sunsets are pretty spectacular. I ate in a Dutch run bar/restaurant and had my favourite dish of beef rendang with sticky coconut rice and as usual it was delicious. Talking to the Dutch girl who was the co-owner it soon became apparent that there were many ex-pats. and other Europeans who had set up business here. Many of them were married to Khmer women and had been in Cambodia for many years.


It became apparent after talking to some of these bar owners that it was quite hard to make ends meet with just one income and consequently some of them undertook a second job. Christian, a guy from Manchester, married to a Khmer lady, returned home every year for four months to do building work. Nicholas, a French guy, worked in Phnom Penh from Monday to Friday and returned at weekends to help his Khmer girlfriend, Sarina, run their bar. She was obviously upset about the fact that he would be away during the week but they really had no option. I began to realise after talking to these people that the Khmers are an incredibly resilient people and I think the reason for this, is that they , for the first time, have a chance to shape their own destiny. Cambodia, after all, had been colonized by the French; Nixon did his utmost to destroy the country with indiscriminate bombing in his 'sideshow' to the Vietnam War and Pol Pot simply tried genocide.


It is no wonder, therefore, that despite the relative hardship of having to take on two jobs and the fact that ones partner may have to work away from home for some time, that the Khmer people grasp the opportunity to control their own future, by working incredibly long arduous hours for little reward.


The main road beside the river in Kampot is poorly lit at the best of times; the sidestreets are nigh on pitch black. Welshman , Steve, runs a bar on one of these sidestreets and I was talking to him until the early hours one morning. I asked him about the dog situation and as we were talking there started the most almighty din of barking, snarling dogs just down the road from where we were. He told me that if I walked in the middle of the road, (assuming I could find the middle) and carried some rocks or stones to pretend to throw at the dogs, then all would be ok. Well thats fine if you do not already have a fear of dogs and it would also be not so bad if you were familiar with your surroundings and if it was daylight. I unfortunately did not have the luxury of any of these.


The noise outside spurred on other gangs of dogs into a frenzy of barking and running around snapping at anything and everything. Some dogs were apparently kept on leashes and could guard their owners property adequately without being let loose. I considered having another Laobeer or indeed waiting until dawn to walk home when at least I would be able to see my adversaries.


Fortune favours the brave (or stupid) and I decided to set out for home which was only ten minutes walk away. It was pitch black and I was sweating a bit to say the least. I could hear the patter of feet quite close by but the barking had subsided for a minute. Everything seemed fine, then suddenly a dog on a leash leapt towards me only to be restrained by its leash, stopping about two foot from my right shoulder. When my heartbeat had returned to normal I carried on and was almost home when I tripped over a small metal dustbin and consequently fell over right in front of one of the guard dogs and was bitten on my lower back. This started a chorus of canine howls and snarling which I remember thinking at the time was more frightening than the bite itself which was not too bad but had drawn blood.


I got home in a minute or two and then it dawned on me that despite the seven jabs I had received before I left the UK I had'nt had the rabies innoculation! I sought some advice and was strongly reccomended to get a jab as soon as possible and that meant going back to Phnom Penh! Five hours on that bus again with the dreaded karaoke and the bus did'nt leave for another three hours. The alternative was a taxi which could get me there much quicker. I weighed up the options of rabies v. karaoke/bus/taxi and decided to get a taxi straight away.


Now then, I have already talked of the wonderful Cambodian smile; it's 4.30.a.m., I'm a bit shaken up and my taxi driver, who has just been woken up, appears and he is smiling like a Cheshire cat, making woof like noises and laughing uncontrollably! I am not sure if he realises exactly what has happened but I make it as clear as I can that I need to get to a hospital in Phnom Penh as soon as possible. He continues laughing and doing his dog impressions as we depart.


As we leave Kampot I try to explain about the bus trip here, but as so often happens it is lost in translation and he seems to think that (i)I like dogs and perhaps more worrying for my sanity, (ii) That I like Cambodian karaoke. Whilst this bizarre conversation of sorts is going on, I am starting to feel pretty rough, my back is aching and it is damn hot! He is driving in a manner not disimilar to a Finnish rally driver, swerving around huge potholes, still grinning and doing his canine caricatures. I'm assuming a possible crash position because I can foresee us ending up in a paddy field at best when he tries to get a picture out of his wallet; I expect you have all done this when driving; that is, try and get your wallet out of your back pocket; it's not easy is it and especially when you are driving at speed, on little better than a dirt track!!! He gets the picture out and lo and behold it's a photo of his dog!


I know he thinks he is doing me proud and at this point I am glad he does'nt speak a English because I let out a torrent of expletives trying to get him to slow down. Unfortunately the act of me pointing at the speedo is misunderstood and he thinks that I am pointing at the CD player, and yes, you've got it the ubiquitous Cambodian karaoke comes on at a deafening volume. By now I have all but forgotten about the dog bite and simply crack up laughing with him at the hilarity of the moment. This spurs him on to greater heights and he adds his own take on an already bloody awful song! If you can imagine very bad Indian restaurant music, add a bit of wailing similar to that of an Islamic Imam calling the faithful to prayer and then as background music throw in an Eastern European national anthem and you have just about got what Cambodian karaoke is like!


We got to Phnom Penh in two hours twenty minutes instead of five hours, thankfully in one piece, and I gave the driver a generous tip, for he quite unwittingly contributed outstandingly to an experince that I shall certainly never forget.


P.S. That night I sought my revenge and had dog curry!!!