An Ode to Motodops

Love 'em or leave 'em, if you're in Phnom Penh without your own means of transportation, chances are you spend a lot of time on the back of motodops (basicially informal taxis via scooters). There is a mass over-abundance on the supply side of this equation as there are about five motodops waiting just for you at the corner of every single block in PP, and they are not the least bit shy about making you aware of their presence. Even the guards who work in my building complex double as motodops, and it can be quite confusing for guests to be chased by uniformed guards on motos. You soon realize that "Lady Moto!" is not really an affectionate nickname dedicated solely to you.

Though motos are perhaps not the safest way to get around, they are certainly the most plentiful, convenient and cheap. I take at least one every day to and from work, and usually again for lunch, Khmer class, yoga, or other very exciting aspects of my daily routine here.

Recently, I discovered that riding on a moto need not be just time spent testing your courage in the face of impending gore and death. As I was waiting for a friend to exchange some money at a bank, I decided it was an opportune time to practice my fledgling Khmer. So out of nowhere, while sitting on the scooter, I took my stab at conversation with my motodop. Conversation might be overstating it. I think "spoken word poetry" better captures the essence of my performance. It went something like this (but in Khmer, duh). A-hem:


“Bank”

“This is a bank!” [ed note: today I learned that I was actually saying "this that bank!" but whatever]

one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten!
eleven
twelve… (and so on and so forth)

“I would like to go watch a sporting event. What about you?

“This is a bank!”

“Cambodia is between Vietnam and Thailand.”

"Delicious!"

“English language, Chinese language, Khmer language, French language…”

“I would like to go. Possible or not?”

“Where do you want to go?”

"I want to eat."

“Do you like movies? Yes/no?”

“Please turn right.”

"Bank!"

At first he would answer me accommodatingly with a symphony of "baa baa's", yes yesses. But eventually he must have gotten bored or something because he just abruptly got off the moto and walked away until my friend came back. I was quite sad, but luckily for me a crowd of security guards and bank employees had gathered around to laugh at me, so I had plenty of other people to practice with.