Sometimes around the house there is drama. Khmer drama. Voices raise in intensity but since it’s all in Khmer I can only tell people are not happy but not why. I don’t get involved with all that. Particularly with things in the neighborhood. It comes down to neighbor B and owner do not get along and they live next door to each other. Talking rarely happens but some of the neighbor B population like the owner’s wife. So there is this subset of talking when the boys won’t. My wife manages to bridge the gap and talk to both. I choose to not talk to any of them. My approach since I don’t care for them is to be there but distant. Instead, I just don’t sit out front hardly at all since there I can hear the whipsaw of feelings.
Instead I choose coffee first thing that I make. I sit in the room most of the time when I’m here. Eating is out front. Socializing in this hood does not happen for me. There is no one here I care to do that with. My wife told me there was some barang living around here and I saw him once. Have not seen him again. It’s easier to just do what I do. People have gotten used to my unfriendly and antisocial antics. I’m not an unfriendly sort of person. I just choose who it is I will spend time with. If a person fails the test, I just beg off and do not want them around me. Khmer people are very social from networks to relationships. Social family includes a wider swathe of brothers and sisters. Then there are the blood relations. Each one carries some kind of mutual social and communal interaction. I don’t pretend to understand all the rules and etiquette of it all. I’m not expected to either. Then we get to the social networks. Maybe it’s widely known that Cambodian and Vietnamese people love their socials. Here its Facebook and TikTok. Hours spent daily from morning to sleep time. I don’t do either so I never see the current crop of videos, wall posts, friends that piss off other friends and sometimes get blocked, family that posts whatever. The concept of the “Facebook friend” lives well here.
Instead I just choose coffee out. Sometimes with my daughter who tells me stuff about this family or that person. I just get by and perhaps excel at only having coffee out. I can tell you Khmer people are no different at coffee shops. It’s Facebook follies there too although a lot of talking is done. Phone screens are shared at different points. Younger people play games or do more chatting or both. I do know a few khmer people at the coffee shops. They always respect privacy and will stop by and ask how I am.
I guess this lets me segue way to coffee out. So I will write on that next. Lucky you.
coffee out is going away
Redsoil coffee always seems nice. Small place. Coffee a reasonable price. Friendly barista. And no one else here.
redsoil
I can sit here. Watch the sky desperately wanting to rain. Far from the usual house things. Coffee out is not a luxury. It’s a necessity. Every day I find this peace. Today when I left, my wife’s niece and her kids showed up. I like them. I also like to leave.
Writing here means space too. Moments to think on whatever. I rarely think on the US. Been gone almost 3 years this time. Now I could not see returning. Life there seems stunted and unreal. Everytime I have gone I find things I dislike. Things which drive me away longer. I love my kids but they seem this step away. I don’t mind that. Everything always moves. Changes. Takes a step.
Not me now. I choose coffee and this moment.
