In Malaysia, when trying to order certain local dishes, the locals got wide-eyed and would say, (quit regularly) "Can you handle? You? You can handle?" chuckles from our end. Ýes, we can handle. In thailand, I 'handled' a spicy papaya salad after watching another woman turn it down because she couldn't. I got a deal by the way. Quit a humorous story how it all unfolded. In Laos the food wasn't really all that spicy. You did all your own spicness levels, as well as, sweetness, tartness. etc. at the table.
Our first meal in Cambodia. We stroll through the market mid afternoon in Stung Treng. Not another tourist in site (they all bee-lined through this town when we opted to get off the bus. Not much open. A woman waves us over to her stall. We just entered the country not 3 hours earlier. We are the 'stupid tourists' that can't communicate anything besides pointing at this time. No english spoken here. We are able to determine the price of a bowl of noodles and order one to share. It comes, Great. Eric doctors it up with the selection of various condiments on the table. Nothing is labeled. All mostly home-made probably. you have to open and sniff to figure out what the closet thing you could even assimiliate to it being. In this process the woman apparantely fixes another noodle bowl and hands it to me. Completely different! Different color, different texture, different smell, different taste. huh. First time this has happened. she seems to be showing us the array of options. Cool I guess. Stalls throughout our trip mind you normally only make and sell 1 or 2 items. Back to Eric. Two young woman sit down next to us, covered head to toe (on a blistering hot day with Eric and I panting, dripping in sweat). Turtle necks, hats, gloves, layers of shirts, jeans. how precious the skin is to them. We try to jesture how hot it is, they just laugh at us. This distracts the noodle woman for a while. Just as Eric opens one condiment and smells, turns to me and starts to say something...all three ladies jump a little. The noodle stall owner the quickest, yelling, 'nonono'no.' Eric is confused. I am confused. She grabs the container from his hand, screws the top on. They all laugh as she repeats, 'nononono' ''But it smells so good' he finally mutters out to me. I guess she didn't think he 'çould handle.'
Our stroll through this market made it feel like everyone just strolled out of bed, or better yet, got ready for bed, and then decided to go out. Why? a large percentage of woman all wearing pajamas. Bright multicolored cotton ones. The comfy long sleeved button up shirts and pants. Matching no less. Teddy bears. Hearts. Lips. small little phrases. Clouds. You get the picture. Kids inlcuded. what is up? We notice many for sale. throughout the next several days we continue to notice this phenomanah. Even in the large capitol city of Phnom Penh. We finally figure it out. Yes, they are pajamas (as we westerners use them) but the locals here, where them as clothes. We get a chuckle every hwere we see quit a few woman wearing them in one viewpoint. Pajama party in Cambodia.
