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Phnom Penh ... motorbikes carrying several passengers are a common sight. Photograph: Chor Sokunthea/Reuters |
Tuesday 15 February 2011
Daniel Murphy
Guardian Weekly
Everything you want to know about Cambodia's city society is found in the traffic of Phnom Penh – social conformity mixed with anarchic individualism, the confidence of young Cambodian women, the indifference of the police, the motorbike as an extra limb attached to the body, the inability of old cultural ways to cope with the modern world.
It's a cool Friday afternoon of around 20C. I am nearing home on my city cycle and stop at traffic lights but, as usual, not everyone wants to stop.
A scooter, liveried in shocking pink and white, follows a couple of other bikes into the opposite lane and rounding us all, crashes the red light and bullies its way into the deep stream of motorbikes swarming south. There are only two passengers on the seat behind the woman driver. They are also young women, with a haughty, sassy style.
They sit side-saddle, perfectly aware of how they look with their short skirts, right legs crossed over left and high heels hanging suspended in mid-air. For all the world they could be sitting on a park bench. One is checking her nails. The other is sweeping her waist-length hair over her shoulder.
The scooter forces its way into the centre of the traffic stream and we obedient citizens who stopped at the lights watch it crash, in slow motion, into another bike that swerved to avoid an SUV on the wrong side of the road.