My late Boy Scout Master used to tell me never to stroll in unfamiliar roads at night time. Had I judiciously followed his advice, I would not have been lost in the streets of Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s capital city. At that time, motorized cycles were familiar fixtures of the city proper (Figure 1). Situated on the banks of the Tonlé Sap Lake as well as Mekong and Bassac Rivers, Phnom Penh used to be called as Krong Chaktomuk or Krong Chaktomuk Serimongkul.

I went there in late November 2000 to do project-related works. (During that period, I was working as a Technical Officer of the UNDP/GEF/IMO Regional Programme on Partnerships in Environmental Management for the Seas of East Asia or PEMSEA.) I had to pass through Phnom Penh to go to Sihanoukville, our coastal demonstration site. (Sihanoukville Province is situated in the southwest which is known for its stunning tropical islands, stunning beaches and the mangrove jungles of Ream National Park but my narrative about this place is reserved for my future blog).

Anyway, while staying in Phnom Penh, I got tired of eating hotel food. Hence, I decided to taste something exotic for my late dinner at past eight in the evening. A hotel staff recommended a restaurant, only a short walking distance. I ate very leisurely, savoring my meal. Inadvertently, the servings of the exotic fried sparrow and marinated lake fish that I ordered were rather huge. I felt very lethargic afterwards and, as a result, I decided to take a leisurely stroll after the heavy meal around the nearby but unfamiliar side streets towards the palace of King Norodom Sihanouk (Figure 2).

While walking along a partially-lighted street corner, however, I noticed that two well-built guys (wearing dark jackets) were following me. I walked faster but they appeared to follow my phasing. As a precaution, I immediately crossed to the other lane and walked rather fast to a side street. They seemed to be following but at a slower phase. (Adrenaline started pumping through my body, undecided in the worst scenario of a fight or a flight strategy.) I took another side street – at a walkathon phase – and made another quick turn. Then, I took my final turn to make sure that I lost them. Unfortunately, such random walks and rapid turns disoriented me. As I traversed straight ahead, I had just found myself standing in the midst of an unfamiliar plaza!

Since I spoke no Khmer, I sought the help of security guards minding private housing units. They could not understand me although I showed them the hotel business card (printed only in English). I was already sweating heavily and feeling agitated as midnight was fast approaching. Luckily, the last guard pointed me to a restaurant across the street.

I talked to the restaurant manager who spoke fluent English, and requested him to instruct a for hire motorcycle driver to bring me back to my hotel. (In Phnom Penh then, public transport was largely through motorcycles or pedal-powered four-wheel cycles called siklo.) He flagged in a motorcycle driver, and instructed him in Khmer while showing the hotel card, to bring me back there. The driver nodded that he understood. I thanked the manager profusely and hopped-in on the motorcycle very relieved. After a five-minute drive, my enthusiasm was suddenly dampened because the driver brought me to the wrong hotel, with nearly identical name!

I was bloody scared as we traversed near midnight time what looked like slum areas with dirty roads, poorly lighted streets and garbage all around. The only compensating thing was there were no roaming drunkards common to slum areas in the Philippines. The feeling was agitating as I was already soaked in sweat and was trying to recollect martial arts moves in the worst fighting scenarios (Figure 3). Scary scenarios crossed my mind that the siklo driver might hold me up – or bring me to his gang mates to be robbed.

It took nearly half an hour of circling around before I finally found my place. What a relief. I felt though that such incident had consumed all the calories in my earlier heavy meal!

What did I swear to myself? Never again will I do such an evening of stupid promenade in an unfamiliar urban terrain.

Copyright © 2019 Michael D Pido