I’m currently in my hotel toom in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, but I would like to elaborate on the events of my 21st birthday before sharing about Cambodia so far.
We went out to a bar [the first one] called Le Pub. It was a Western paradise and I really liked it. I drank the cheapest beer on the menu – La Rue. It wasn’t too bad for costing only 25,000 dong and came in a 16 oz bottle. Dreux came out for a drink, too, which was pretty cool. After some mini pizzas we kept walking down the street in search for a bar called 69 Bar. I dubbed this a bar crawl until 69 Bar because I did not want to waste my whole night looking for one bar. We stumbled upon an empty club called EZ Club. No one was really in there, but it was a Sunday night so we didn’t really expect much for the club scene anyway. It turned out to be a hookah bar too, so we got a hookah and a beer. Katie and Darla didn’t get a beer, but they didn’t play the sober card all night either [the “Oh-you’re-too-drunk-sweetie” card], so I was happy. At this empty club we realized that we were antsy for some movement. Some people wanted to dance, but I really wanted kareoke. We left this bar and to our pleasant surprise we stumbled upon a bumping club just down the street.
IT WAS GREAT. Got some different Vietnamese beer in a mug and hit the dance floor. I was quite the hot commodity in the bar – or at least that’s how I felt. My buzz was turning into my drunk around this point and I really got my dance on. In doing so, I accidentally spilled beer on the kinda cute, trendy, looked like Abbie’s ex, Vietnamese guy’s scarf. I overly apologize [you know, flirting], but he kept eyeing me up after this from across the room for the rest of the night. But I was dancing like an idiot, and being one of the only two white girls in the club, a lot of people looked at me all night anyways. [Side note – one thing about being white in this part of the world is that everyone stares at me. Not the stare where they look away embarrassed for looking so long, but the “holy-shit-you’re-really-pale-are-you-an-alien” stare that they aren’t ashamed of. It’s something I’m still not used to. That being said, not everyone does this. This happens mostly in parts where not many tourists visit and usually it’s elderly woman, young children, or women my age.]
At this point I realized my drink had not been covered at all – meaning about ten minutes. So I told the group that I hadn’t had it covered and that if I suddenly started acting really really drunk that I had been drugged. I wasn’t sure how popular or affordable those kinds of drugs were in this part of the world, so I took much caution. I danced with a couple Vietnamese guys, got a couple glares from some Vietnamese girls, and drank three beers and a shot of tequila [of course]. The scarf guy kept staring at me though! When I was taking a dance break, we cheers-ed and then he poured some of his beer in my mug. Um, excuse me? Noooo, thank you. Katie saw it and said not to drink it [well no shit sherlock], but I already didn’t plan on consuming it, so I just smiled, put the drink on the table, and walked about without taking a sip. That shit’s sketchy.
While Jake puked outside after his dance-off and tri-tequila shot awesomeness, Mai Shoua and I chatted with three people from New Zealand – Tom, Laura, and Harley. They were the only other Westerners in the bar, so I wanted to find out where they were from. Apparently Tom owns a Vietnamese restaurant in Hanoi, so he has lived there for three years. They told us that the clubs shut down around midnight so we inquired as to where to go after that.
“Fuc Tan. Take a cab. Say Fuc Tan or Lighthouse. It’s an all night bar.”
“That sounds great. What price should we pay for a taxi?”
“No more than 40,000. Maybe we’ll see you there.”
I got Tom’s card and continued dancing. I moved to the front of the club by the DJs and was joined by the crew. At around one in the morning the cops kicked everyone out and we went outside. This group of Vietnamese guys was like,
“You are so fun! You are so crazy!”
“IT’S MY BIIIIRTHHHDAYYAAAYYYY!” [The drunk voice had kicked in.]
“How old are you?”
“guesssssssss!”
“17.” “26.” “23.” “19.”
“21!” They seemed surprised.
Outside there were some white guys making me guess where they were from but I couldn’t figure it out. Even when they said their country starts with an I and ends with an L. ISRAEL. Duh me. So I said, “Fuck!” One guys said, “Don’t swear!” I responded, “Is shit ok?” “Yes, shit is ok.” “SHIT!”
[Will finish story tomorrow and catch up. So exhausted. Goodnight.]
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (and Tuk-tuks, Taxis, Cyclos, Buses, Bicycles, and Boats) 