Cambodia: Newspapers to rent and views to die for

Dawn breaks over the Mekong river. (Photo: AP)

Wednesday Feb 04, 2009
Andrew Spooner
The New Zealand Herald

As I sit eating a bowl of noodles, a little street kid asks in perfect English, "You want to buy a newspaper?"

"OK if you don't want to buy. I will rent to you. Only 1000 riel (47c). It costs 4000 to buy, so this is a good price. You can read for one hour. Then I will come back and collect it."

As I've only just begun slurping on my noodles, I hand over the cash and get something to read.

Given the destruction that Phnom Penh endured, the creative entrepreneurial skills of some of its poorest inhabitants are certainly inspiring. At last, it seems as though a new identity is emerging from the City of Ghosts.

What is even more surprising is that Phnom Penh is becoming decidedly sophisticated.

"Here's your passionfruit creme brulee," says the sleek, black-clad waitress. I'm sitting outside Metro, one of Phnom Penh's most popular upmarket watering holes. On the menu is an array of Asian fusion nibbles and the kind of cocktail list you'd expect in London or New York.

Yet, what London and New York can't provide is the view: Metro is on Sisowath Quay, a riverside road that fronts directly on to the point where the Tonle Sap and Mekong Rivers meet.

To grasp the full potential of Sisowath Quay you have to get up before dawn and head to the Foreign Correspondents' Club (FCC). With its open-walled cafe providing full access to the light and air of the rivers, the FCC serves its breakfast with a staggering sunrise.

"We even have a few rooms for rent," says operations manager, Michelle Duncan, "and we've just opened a new designer boutique property called The Quay a bit further down the river."

In Phnom Penh, boutique hotels are springing up like mushrooms. Many of the colonial-era French villas were left intact by the Khmer Rouge and are now being turned into funky places to stay and eat.

"When I first arrived here I never intended to be a hotelier," says Eric Weisman, a former movie producer from Los Angeles. Eric's property, the Scandinavia Hotel, on Street 282, is a small villa in central Phnom Penh with a resident modern art gallery, a cute, kidney-shaped pool and a low-key, designer vibe that uplifts without being pretentious.

But where did the name come from? "The place used to be owned by a Scandinavian expat who wanted to create a party place for his biker pals. It took a while to restore the reputation," says Eric with a grin.

In Phnom Penh there's the Spanish-managed Boddhi Tree Aram, a tiny, stylish eight-room villa, buried away on Street 244, which has become one of the most sought-after places to stay.

Then there's The Pavilion, an elegant property that has a mixed reputation largely due to a Fawltyesque management style. Back on Sisowath, and probably the pick of the bunch, is the sumptuous Amanjaya - the corner suites have the best riverside balconies in the city.

Phnom Penh also hits home on the culinary front. The bizarre North Korean Government-run Pyongyang on Monivong Boulevard - arrive in time for the surreal nightly 8pm song and dance show - serves up fantastic bulgogi steak, while the Spanish-flavoured Pacharan, on Sisowath, is a revelation.

"Seafood is so cheap here," says my waiter, as a paella arrives. "We can make it even bigger than we would back in Spain."

Soothed by the evening air of the Mekong, I've found my own little bit of heaven. I order a coffee and unwind. All I need is something to read - does anybody have a newspaper to rent?

Cupid Draws Back His Bow at Valentine's Speed Date and Auction

Friday, February 16, 2007

By Elizabeth Tomei and Suzy Khimm
THE CAMBODIA DAILY

Seated alone at tables strewn with flower petals, 30 of Phnom Penh's eligible expatriate men anxiously awaited the ring of Cupid's bell Wednesday night.

A few had wives or girlfriends—even a telltale wedding ring—but none saw anything wrong with a Valentine's night-out playing the "speed-dating" field at the FCC's rooftop terrace.

Women, clutching glasses of free-flowing wine and beer, moved from table to table every three minutes, and daters ranked their new acquaintances in the margins of a list of names as potential friends or lovers—or neither.

Originally conceived by a Jewish rabbi to ensure that Jewish singles could meet each other in large cities, speed-dating—as it is known—seems to suit the transient nomadic flux of Phnom Penh's expat population, according to organizers and participants at the FCC.

Attended by 30 men and 30 women, the serial-dating challenge was "a fun way to introduce new people," said FCC head chef Lucia Dengate, adding that the format appeals to people because it is non-committal.

The 60 participants paid $11 at the door, or $9 in advance, to join the event. Most agreed they got their money's worth: a bell rang every three minutes to signal that women should move along to their next date.

At the end of the night, daters submitted their forms—with each date's score—to the organizers who will later notify participants of the outcome by email, FCC Group Operations Manager Michelle Duncan said.

Contacted Thursday, Duncan said that three or four romantic matches were made, but friendship seemed to be the dominant feeing to come out of the night.

It was the second speed-dating night held at the FCC, and was punctuated by a charity ''bachelor auction," in which women bid on dates with eight different men.

The auction was the brainchild of two British expatriates, Jeni Dixon and Edward Pollard, after several late-night discussions with friends about "how few single, straight barang guys there are" in Phnom Penh's social circle, Dixon, 27, wrote in an email.

The names of the bachelors for auction were listed on a chalkboard under the heading "Today's Special," and they were cheekily described as a tree hugger, a mama's boy, a proteomic scientist and a "dark-haired, blue-eyed, long-lashed beauty of a man."

A US Embassy staffer was among the lucky women with winning bids in the auction, which ultimately raised $460 for the Indochina Starfish foundation, a local children's NGO.

Mitchell Isaacs, a 26-year-old bachelor who fetched $55 in the auction, said he was a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

"Who wants to buy me? That’s pretty intense," the Australian national said, adding that he was pleased with the price he sold for. "I was expecting, like, $12," he said.

Choup Channa, who observed the teeming crowd of expat daters from a nearby table, thought that speed-dating would be an ideal social event for young, 20-something Cambodians.

"It’s a way to be acquainted before being boyfriend-girlfriend,'' said the 25-year-old Khmer teacher. "It’d be a good way to meet," she said, "as long as the parents didn’t find out."