I have not gotten a full nights sleep since I came to Siem Reap. This is due mainly to the fact that my sleep schedule is out of sync with the locals.
I generally fall asleep anywhere between 11 and 2am. I wake up around 8 for class.
Last night, for example:
3am: air conditioner starts to leak profusely. All over my stuff, my books, and our drinking water (that I was hoping would last until we left for Phnom Penh at least). I turn off the air conditioner.
5am: It’s too damn hot. Screw it. AC goes back on.
6am: Giggling, yelling children run up and down the hallway. They’ve done this for two days in a row now.
6:20am: The house next to us, whose window is directly across from ours, starts BLARING Khmer music. For the next forty minutes.
6:51am: The AC, inevitably, starts leaking again. I ignore it and hide under my pillow.
8:00am: My alarm goes off. I ignore it and hope that my roommate set her alarm. But really, I don’t care anymore.
8:20am: My roommate’s alarm goes off. A very grumpy me drags my ass out of bed and eventually downstairs to spend five minutes explaining to the manager why the AC isn’t working right.
I am almost positive that it is his wife playing the music really loudly and his children running through the hallways. I want to point this out. I want to complain about the music and the children and the leak in the bathroom that drips on me when I’m trying to shower and the fact that they never refill the toilet paper and I’m always down there asking for more. But I can’t.
Who am I to bitch about the fact that the Cambodia day starts at 6am? I’m the visitor, the interloper in this culture. By all rights I should adjust to their schedule, not them to mine (which I would, if I was living and working here. I’m not).
I realize that in the scheme of things I am so ridiculously spoiled and privileged – it’s not the end of the world that my eight odd hours of sleep was interrupted by someone who was probably doing the laundry for the whole hotel while listening to music? Or the children who see this as their home?
Despite realizing this, I would still like a good night’s sleep.
Presently longing for the cushy days of my previous existence: days without being coated in sweat, my air conditioned basement cave of a bedroom. Parents cooking food/having food available so I don’t have to pay for every damned meal at the eating out rate. Wifi in my room. Friends. Easy access to the books I want to read *at a public library* and not just the books available in the (over priced) used bookstore. Endless shows of Law and Order on one of three channels, so there’s always something on besides bad boxing movies, The Justice League, and 24 hours of non stop Khmer Karaoke.
(I did, however, spend my evening yesterday sitting in a cafe, drinking a glass of Argentina Red and reading. Life isn’t all bad, in fact, it’s not bad at all. I’m just sleep deprived and grumpy.)