Cambodian Funeral

Last month, I attended a Cambodian wedding.  This month, I attended a Cambodian funeral. Yarong Van was an employee of the U.S. Embassy in Phnom Penh for nearly 20 years.  I worked with him for only a few months until he became too ill last spring to continue working.  Sadly he was in and out of the hospital on several occasions, with only brief instances of improvement, before passing away in early January.

Yarong's portrait with some of his embassy awards and mementos.

On the morning of the funeral, we drove to his family's house and joined a procession of vehicles going to the crematorium.  In Cambodia's Buddhist culture, cremation is much more common than burials.  A brightly decorated vehicle carried the coffin and played music out of its speakers, letting all we passed know that it was a funeral procession.

Funeral car carrying coffin.

Upon arriving at the crematorium, the coffin was unloaded and placed in the open pavilion space at the front of the building.  Yarong's family members gathered closely and listened to the monks offer words of blessing.

Coffin being carried to crematorium entrance.

Monks offer a blessing over the coffin.

Then all attendees walked around the crematorium three times, tossing money and confetti into the air.  I was surprised to see some $100 bills land on the ground, but someone told me they were fake, specifically made for ritual use.  Eulogies followed, including one from my boss, who spoke of Yarong's contributions to the embassy community.  The family drew close around the coffin again, saying final goodbyes before the coffin entered the crematorium.  My heart broke for Yarong's family at that point.  I could hear their cries of sadness, and remembered that Yarong was a young man, only in his 50s.  May he be reborn into a healthier life.

Crematorium building draped with funeral colors of white and black.

Dining in the Dark

This week I participated in a growing trend that I had no interest in joining: Dining in the Dark.  But a group of friends encouraged me to join a girls night out and I relented.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, we were seated in the dimly lit bar and offered the drink menu.  Several in our group wanted some liquid courage before eating the unknown, so we ordered a round.  We were then given a choice of three menu options: International, Khmer (Cambodian), or Vegetarian.  That was the extent of the meal descriptions.  I chose international.

After placing our orders, the bar staff introduced us to our blind servers.  We lined up behind the servers, placing our hands on each other's shoulders like we were in grade school doing a fire drill.  The servers led us out of the light and into the pitch blackness of the dining room.  The servers directed each of us to our seats:  "Erica, on your right, you will find your chair."  Once we were seated, our server said "Put your left hand on the table and you will feel your fork."  Ah yes!  "Put your right hand on the table and you will feel your knife and spoon."  Correct, again!  "Above your knife is your water glass."  I slowly moved my hand up along the knife until my fingertips touched something and I wrapped my hand around my water glass.  Very clever!

Our server - who introduced himself as Baby - said "Now I will serve your appetizer" and I heard a plate placed in front of me.  After a moment of hesitation, I picked up my fork, poked into the food, and placed a bite of ... salad into my mouth.  The next bite had something a bit rubbery in it.  It seemed to have the texture of squid or calamari, but not the taste, so I wasn't sure what it was.  Another bite had some chewy meat in it.  After several more bites of that, I decided it was beef.  There was also something else that was cut into small cubes like cheese.  Some bites of it had a cheese taste, but others did not, so I was left puzzled by that ingredient.  As the salad dwindled on my plate, I realized there was no way I would know when I was finished unless I involved my hands.  So I used my fingers to gather the last bites onto my fork and then felt around the plate to confirm it was empty.

Baby cleared our appetizer plates and served our main meals.  This time I used my hands right away.  I felt a large chunk of something covered in breading.  I carefully felt for my knife and cut off a piece to discover it was breaded fish.  Along with the fish, I had cubed potatoes.  Meanwhile, my friend felt around on her plate and said "I can't feel any fish; half my plate is empty!"  They had forgotten to put the fish on her plate!  Baby quickly fixed this for her, but it led us to speculate if the chefs were blind as well!

By this point I noticed that my eyes hurt.  I suspect my eyes (or my brain) were straining to see and coming up with nothing.  It was completely, utterly dark, so there was not a chance of seeing anything, but clearly my eyes didn't understand that.  Or perhaps the pain was purely psychological.

Dessert was served and the first bite revealed bread pudding.  As I took my last bites, I also tasted some chocolate.

Finished with the meal, we stood up, got back into our fire drill lines, and re-entered the light.  Here, the bar staff showed us photos of our meals.  My appetizer was salad, with mushrooms (the rubbery stuff that had seemed like squid), beef, cheese, and ... beets!  The inclusion of the beets explained why some of the small cubes tasted like cheese and others didn't.  My main dish was fish and potatoes, as expected.  My dessert was bread pudding, served on a drizzle of chocolate, explaining why I only tasted chocolate in a few bites.

Reflecting on the night, I was extremely impressed by our server and his ability to navigate not only himself, but explain our surroundings to us, and keep our water and wine glasses full without any spillage!  I was also extremely grateful for my eyesight and relieved to return to the land of the light.  Frankly, though, the food seemed bland, so I'm not sure what I learned about the value of eyesight to eating.  Was the food only bland because I couldn't see it and identify it?  Or did it lack proper seasoning to pique my senses?  I think that Dining in the Dark will remain a once in a lifetime experience for me!

Cambodian Wedding, Part 2

Each table at the wedding had a bottle of Chivas Regal whiskey.  Thankfully, the tables also had several cans of soda water to mix in with the whiskey.  Whenever the fancy struck them, someone at the table would raise his whiskey and say cheers.  And every else was supposed to raise his whiskey and take a sip.  Additionally, anytime a whiskey drinker walked up to a table or to a group of people, the ritual was repeated.  Women seemed to be excepted from this custom, so I was spared, but Jeremy happily participated.

As we finished eating, we noticed guests gathering near the center of the room.  The couple was at the back of the room and began walking up through the middle, with guests cheering and throwing confetti and spraying silly string.  When they reached the dance floor, Hemroth and Sophal had their first dance.  You'll notice they are now wearing white, whereas they were wearing green when we arrived!

In the center of the dance floor was a table piled high with fruit.  After the first dance, the guests were invited to help themselves to a piece of fruit.  I was planning on hanging back and not getting any, since the table quickly became a mob scene, but one of my friends grabbed a full banana bunch, and pulled one off for me.  Not sure what to do with it, I started to put it in my purse to take home, but he said I was supposed to eat it right away, for good luck.

The dance floor quickly filled up again as guests started dancing.  Khmer dancing remains mysterious to me.  Everyone moves slowly in a circle, in a 3-step rhythm, while gently twirling their arms in front of them from side to side.  And you keep doing this, over and over, to music that hardly seems to stop or change.  After about once around the circle, I'm pretty bored, but Cambodians will just keep at it.  Jeremy and I each did a couple laps around the circle, with helpful friends showing us the movements.

Eventually, we extracted ourselves from the dance floor and prepared to leave.  But not before one final picture of the bride, who was now wearing another different dress!

Erica, Hemroth, and Virginia