During my stay in Krabi hospital, the Asian staff had labeled me “Breft Prestor”, rather than Brett Preston Wisniewski (They copied this directly from my passport”). “Breft Prestor” had become my ill alter-ego over the past 7 days. Breft’s only abilities are to eat yogurt, sleep, puke and take Tylenol. Today, Breft Prestor is no more.
Today is the first day I am back to playing shape, feeling primo 100%, like a new lad. Last night we arrived in Phanm Penh , Cambodia- SE Asia pizza that uses mozz sauce rather than ketchup. Muah! Cabby drivers waited outside for us to finish our dinner, practically watching each bite we took. When we finished they swarmed us...”you need ride? Where you go? Where you go?”. There are way too many Tuk Tuk’s (mini bike w/ wagon on back) than demand for Tuk Tuk’s. We rented our own cab guy (Lewis) for the day for $12. Lewis just takes fat naps and waits for us at each stop. “My life perfect”, expressed Lewis.
Child sex tourism is a huge problemo in Cambodia
An old British man brought a (legal) Cambodian escort back to the hostel. The hostel clerk is a hardass and gave many-a-threat to the man stating, “If any problems we call police, lock down hostel, and you go prison,’’ the man accepted the heavy caution and rented the room for an hour.
The poor kids here are incredibly aggressive and sometimes eerie. This one 8-year-old boy was bugging me at dinner to buy his books (they come right up to the table and nustle up on you). He knew a handful of set-sales phrases in English. After I declined, he said “You play the game”, with one of those Poltergeist-children horror movie stares. I looked down at his hand, which had a swastika drawn on it. He then busted out a paper/scissors/rock challenge, to which I did not accept, knowing he would emerge victorious. Vanessa pointed out that he was flirting with me, to which I dont even want to think about. I gave his less aggressive sister a slice of pizza and they were on their way.
Another kid followed us for blocks, saying his rehearsed line, “Gimme money gimme money. I need pens and books to go to school.” Luckily, I had a pen in my pocket and offered it to better his education. He declined the gift. I then gave him some money, which he declined, and said “more”. Wha?!. I gave the money to his nicer, cuter sister instead.
Next, Lewis took us to the killing fields, where there was mass genocide of Cambodians just 35 years ago. Very eerie. On the walking paths little bones and pieces of clothing begin to emerge from the buried below. Towers of skulls lie in a monument and the tour guide shows you the tree where they would bash heads up against. Grave pits everywhere.
Today was the jam. So joyous to feel like me again. Prestor no more. Tonight I will drink a long n’ strong Cambodian 40 ounce hopped to perfection. I will love it. I will also feel it. For I have not been training.
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