This weekend was spent in the beach town formerly known as Kampong Som, though it has now been renamed Sihanoukville in honor of the former King. Back at Barnes & Noble in Lancaster in August, I looked through Lonely Planet’s Cambodia guide and among other things I learned that Sihanouk, in addition to being the King, was also quite the filmmaker in his day. In fact, twice he hosted the Phnom Penh International Film Festival, and strangely enough, both times movies he directed and starred in won the grand prize. You gotta love the reckless egotism, and you wonder if renaming the beach town might also have been his idea.

I was at the beach this weekend to get a feel for the place and to make some contacts, since I’ll be the logistical point person when we have the leadership retreat there next month with about 90 people. But (who am I kidding?) I was also at the beach this weekend to relax and soak up some rays. I mean, it is mid-October after all, and a guy’s gotta get a tan, right?

I stayed in a bungalow just off the beach, at a place called Coaster’s, operated by a couple of Irish dudes who also run a bar and diving company. If you ever happen to be in town, be sure you check it out. The place is just around the bend from the big, sandy and popular beach by the name of Occheateal, on the smaller, rockier and quieter Serendipity. I spent much time reading under a thatched roof, drinking cold water or sipping on a banana milk shake, in addition to some time in the water. Vendors are not lacking in Sihanoukville and many of them coerce you into making pinky promises. I promised a girl vendor that if I decided to buy a bracelet, she would be who I got it from. Then three or four others said “Then me!” so I had to promise three or four others, in order, that they would be next if I bought two or three or four or five.

A Chinese masseuse named Shirly out on Occheateal talked with me for a long time, about how she applied for a visa to the USA and paid $100 but was denied. That’s just not right, I told her. After a plethora of questions from her and answers from me, she then made me promise, though I didn’t want a massage and I didn’t want treatment for arthritis, that if I referred anybody to a massage place it would be hers. She had herself a deal, I said..

I had two occasions to eat dinner out on the beach under the sunset, admiring the gold that God had hung over a rose and purple sea, as George MacDonald once poetically put it. As I ate dinner the first night, a beggar came up and I said no as I normally do. Right away I felt like a selfish jerk. I wondered why I always say no. Sure, they might all be druggies and my money might be feeding their habit, but just as likely, they might be Jesus in disguise, like in the story of the sheep and the goats. I don’t want to mistake Jesus for “just some drug addict.” So when the next beggar who came up, a guy without legs and only one hand, I had made up my mind. As I reached for my money clip, I asked his name. He then held up his stump of an arm, as if to validate his request. I shook my head, put my hand on my chest, said my name and asked his again. This time he understood and he told me his name but I normally forget people’s names the first few times I meet them and he was unfortunately no exception. When I gave him a dollar, his face lit up, he bowed his head and shook my hand with both hands - or, with the hand and the stump, I guess. As he shuffled down the beach with his no legs and one hand, I thought to myself that I ought to care about people more often, and that I should have given him the rest of my pizza as well.

During this month and a half in Cambodia, the land of a million motos, I have become increasingly convinced that driving a moto would be a good time. It is kind of like being in Atlanta and leaving convinced that the southern accent is awesome, or coming back from Europe wanting to wear capris and big sunglasses. But at any rate, I rented a moto yesterday and proceeded to teach myself how to operate it. Only once before had I operated a motorbike. That was in Texas when I was 10 or 12 and I hit the gas too hard, spun around, and fell off and onto the ground. This time I fared much better, and though there may have been moments when I looked less than smooth, I took several loops around the peninsula and made it back in one piece. And unlike the southern accent and the capris, I am more convinced than ever that having a moto would be a real good thing, if it weren’t for the blasted snow and ice in Pennsylvania.

Oh, and I should also mention that yesterday there was a full rainbow around the sun.

This sign would make sense right away if you have been to South East Asia and it would strike you as funny and photo-worthy. Apparently there is a bar in Bangkok called “Same Same, But Different.” Everywhere you go, they sell the shirts. There is even a knock-off restaurant and guest house in Sihanoukville by the same name. So this other place scored cool points in my book.