Taped Up I walked right into it. A low hanging roof at the Russian Market, just the right level to hit my head. Psaa Tuol Tom Poung (on its periphery) is a patchwork of different stalls and there are plenty of low-hanging obstacles to avoid. I’ve been around this particular market hundreds of times, but there are always surprises to be found. I nearly fell over but caught myself, and standing up from a crouch, felt something dripping on my head. Some water from the corroded old metal roof was falling on me. Or was it? The market vendors at the stalls nearby were looking alarmed. The water was still dripping, on the ground and on my clothes. I removed my hands from my pounding head and saw it wasn’t water, it was blood. The ladies at the stalls quickly handed over tissues and I put pressure on what I now realized was some kind of head cut. They urged me to sit down, but I didn’t know how bad it was and didn’t want to go into shock. Since the Russian Market is ringed by pharmacies and clinics I thanked them for the tissues and walked outside. I took a moto (for one block) to the nearest clinic. The clinic owner’s wife gave me some gauze for the bleeding, and phoned for her husband. After ten minutes the clinic owner arrived, applied disinfectant and an anti-coagulant, and cleaned the cut. He noted that head cuts can really bleed, even small ones. Next up? Stitches. I thanked him for his time but told him I’d prefer a different doctor for that. Small clinics can be a roll of the dice – this one would have been cheap and the owner seemed to have some decent training, but I look at health as a pragmatic investment. That roof looked pretty grungy, a good approximation of a serrated knife edge. I hopped a moto over to SOS clinic, one of the longest running (and most expensive) clinics in Phnom Penh. A friend was also in the waiting room, filling out his paperwork for a check-up. “Tertiary syphilis – I think I’m going blind,” I deadpanned as the nurse led me off. A second cleaning and two stitches later I had tape on my head and tape on my mind. I went home, cleaned myself up, and got another moto back to the market. I scoured the bike parts section for a roll of strong duct tape, and headed back to where it all began. In the States or Europe? This would be a matter of liability for lawyers. In Phnom Penh I’m a little more pragmatic. If I was Khmer the most obvious thing to do would be to hassle the stall owner (or market administration) for some compensation, but it would involve the same sort of dramatic argumentation you see in motorcycle accidents. The stall owners were surprised at my return and relieved to hear all was OK. I asked them if I could use the duct tape to cover the edge of the roof. That way, the next person who hit it would get a nasty bump instead of a nasty cut. The vendors smiled at the idea, helped me cut and stick the tape, and asked if they could keep the remainder to apply to some other places as well. I thanked them for their help earlier and headed off to look for some music CDs. Who knows? Maybe it was a dumb idea – I’d just gotten whacked in the head, after all. Maybe the tape will come down after the next rain. But sometimes you’ve just gotta go with your impulses. Tags: Cambodia
- jinja Link
HOME
about
archive
travels
contact
linkage
Anonymous comments are deleted. Emails related to this blog may be reprinted.
Popular Posts:
Gunplay
Miss-Khmer-ica
Couches and Controversy
Street Kids Shoot Back
Phnomenon Interview
Links:
Arts
What's On - Cambodia Arts News
Sovanna Phum
Java Arts
le Popil
Cambodian Comics
Sporadic Cartoon
Komik Cambodia Exchange
Rajana Society
Reyum
Arijan Jansonius
Lakhorn Kou
Virtual Lotus
Saklapel.org
Nou Hach Literary Journal
Art House, Siem Reap
Nonprofits
Libellus Association
Osmose
Cyclo Centre
Gecko Centre
Heritage Watch
Khmer Operating System
Santapheap
'Our Village'
Profits
KhmerProducts.com
Digital divide Data
Hagar Soya
Schooling
EFEO
Center For Khmer Studies
Bophana Center
SE Asia Archaeology Blog
Youth Infotech Workshops
Center for Advanced Study
Online Khmer Dictionary
Other Cambodia Blogs
Analog Cambodia
Andy Brouwer
Chath
Tharum
Phnomenon
Khmerang.com
Cambochica
Wanna
Cambodia4Kids
That'll Do
Mongkol
Mungkol
Details Are Sketchy
Stefan's Blog
Virak
Jeff's Jungle
Vuthasurf!
Steve Goodman
traactivity
Khmerbird
Earth's Molten Core
Kampuchea Crossings
Vanndeth
Squatter
Parish without Borders
PreahChan
Pepy Ride
Down the Road: Cambodia
Danny's Weblog
Phnom Penh Tagebuch
Reporter at Large
Kalyan Keo
Illuminating Cambodia
'Embassy' Blog
Srei Saat
transit
Khmer Cyberkid
Mistaken for Khmer
Cam-Blog
Cameras 4 Cambodia
Listings
Expat-Advisory.com
'Planet Cambodia' blogs
Technorati's 'Cambodia' blogs
Global Voices
Global Voices Wiki Archived
Blogger's 'Cambodia' list
Topix.net: Cambodia blogs
travel
Hidden Cambodia
Tales of Asia
Canby Publications
AsiaLifeCambodia
Gratuitous Linkage
Manur.org
travel-itch
Sweet Cucumber
anth
jemisa
van-vanity.de
Maytel 2020
Camelfish
Spikor
lorraine crescent
Geminianeyes
Kamigaroshi
Eternal Wanderer
EducateDeviate
Somesaypip
Rambling Spoon
Jemisa's Back!
dev.null.org
KiwiBopha
Gombe Chimpanzee
RSS feed
« Asia Expats Ring » ?
Blogdup
Psaa Tuol Tom Poung (on its periphery) is a patchwork of different stalls and there are plenty of low-hanging obstacles to avoid. I’ve been around this particular market hundreds of times, but there are always surprises to be found.
I nearly fell over but caught myself, and standing up from a crouch, felt something dripping on my head. Some water from the corroded old metal roof was falling on me.
Or was it? The market vendors at the stalls nearby were looking alarmed. The water was still dripping, on the ground and on my clothes. I removed my hands from my pounding head and saw it wasn’t water, it was blood.
The ladies at the stalls quickly handed over tissues and I put pressure on what I now realized was some kind of head cut.
They urged me to sit down, but I didn’t know how bad it was and didn’t want to go into shock. Since the Russian Market is ringed by pharmacies and clinics I thanked them for the tissues and walked outside. I took a moto (for one block) to the nearest clinic. The clinic owner’s wife gave me some gauze for the bleeding, and phoned for her husband.
After ten minutes the clinic owner arrived, applied disinfectant and an anti-coagulant, and cleaned the cut. He noted that head cuts can really bleed, even small ones. Next up? Stitches. I thanked him for his time but told him I’d prefer a different doctor for that. Small clinics can be a roll of the dice – this one would have been cheap and the owner seemed to have some decent training, but I look at health as a pragmatic investment. That roof looked pretty grungy, a good approximation of a serrated knife edge.
I hopped a moto over to SOS clinic, one of the longest running (and most expensive) clinics in Phnom Penh. A friend was also in the waiting room, filling out his paperwork for a check-up. “Tertiary syphilis – I think I’m going blind,” I deadpanned as the nurse led me off.
A second cleaning and two stitches later I had tape on my head and tape on my mind. I went home, cleaned myself up, and got another moto back to the market. I scoured the bike parts section for a roll of strong duct tape, and headed back to where it all began.
In the States or Europe? This would be a matter of liability for lawyers. In Phnom Penh I’m a little more pragmatic. If I was Khmer the most obvious thing to do would be to hassle the stall owner (or market administration) for some compensation, but it would involve the same sort of dramatic argumentation you see in motorcycle accidents.
The stall owners were surprised at my return and relieved to hear all was OK. I asked them if I could use the duct tape to cover the edge of the roof. That way, the next person who hit it would get a nasty bump instead of a nasty cut.
The vendors smiled at the idea, helped me cut and stick the tape, and asked if they could keep the remainder to apply to some other places as well. I thanked them for their help earlier and headed off to look for some music CDs.
Who knows? Maybe it was a dumb idea – I’d just gotten whacked in the head, after all. Maybe the tape will come down after the next rain. But sometimes you’ve just gotta go with your impulses.
