Not Your Neighborhood Wal Mart, Not Shop the Pig

DATELINE: July 17, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

I crave it and I fear it. I am lost in it but still want to go, and will go with any excuse. Phsa Chas and Phsa Leu, Old Market, New Market.

I always wish I was wearing boots instead of sandals. The floor is uneven, wet cement. If someone did a lab test on it they would find years of old decay, various species of urine, blood, vomit, vegetable and fruit juice and things I cannot even imagine. And the smells! Intentionally decaying fish called Khmer cheese, innards, meat with flies, exotic fruits and vegetables, dogs, cats, small children, and cases of brightly lit jewelry sparkling next to chickens being chopped. Women seated at a sewing machine sewing fine lace are mixed in with things fresh from the farmyard, forest, or garden. People are eating at counters and just drop their napkins and banana peels on the floor.

I much prefer this to the air con malls with ice cream and pizza and imitation McDonalds.

We stand at the counter of "Button Place" where the temperature is about 103 degrees with no breeze to wait our turn. People try to pass behind me and the aisle is so narrow we have to take turns. When I can turn around, I see yards and yards of fabric stacked and hanging in an area the size of my powder room. Mostly sheer tricot. Velcro? Yes! Have! We do not know the Khmer word so we bring samples.

As I come out into the light to the busy street, I see a dead mouse and something else kicked into the door way. A brief "yuk" and sad for mouse, then keep calm and carry on.

For Pat and Deanna, it's better than Disney.