Old Time Stories

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The Whisperer
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by The Whisperer » Fri May 03, 2019 7:16 am

phuketrichard wrote:
Thu May 02, 2019 7:06 pm
The Whisperer wrote:
Thu May 02, 2019 5:45 pm
phuketrichard wrote:
Thu May 02, 2019 4:10 pm
to much info Whisperer
dont need stories that make me think, i want stories that entertain.


But, hey, thats just me....
Yeah, I understand. Just thought that maybe, if us guys could open up a bit and discuss our problems with one another then it may reduce our suicide rate here in Cambo.
End of the day, I believe our life is precious and its such a shame to see so many people checking out.
open up? Posting problems on an open forum to people you don't know?
nope, not for me
....its such a shame to see so many people checking out.
why?
taking control of how, where, when u die, is ok for me and i hold it not against anyone
Its everyone to their own, but I understand where you are coming from.
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NeverNude
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by NeverNude » Sat May 04, 2019 5:25 pm

John Bingham wrote:
NeverNude wrote:
Thu May 02, 2019 10:38 pm
Jesus Christ some of you are old as hell. Do you dictate to a nurse to post here?
You can scoff now, but it's very unlikely that you'll live as long as we did. Think about that while you are choking to death on beard hair.
I don’t doubt you all are Cambodia’s version of Keith Richards.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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Duncan
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Duncan » Mon Jul 22, 2019 5:58 pm

Now here's a story you're not going to believe, and it involves me going to school, so I'll post a photo of my classmates just to prove I went to school.

Image

Now I grew up on a scrubby block of land and mum milked by hand mostly 10 to 15 cows by hand to earn a income so we were poor, bloody poor, and I always went to school with no shoes. In winter time there was sometimes a frost on the ground and my feet were cold as,,,,. So how does a kid keep his toes warm while waiting for the school bus to come. Well there were two ways. One was to piss on your own feet and stand in that one spot until all the warmth had gone, and the other was to stay in the cow paddock near the gate and stand in a freshly deposited cow shit. That method involves carefully listening for the bus before you could even see it, then running like fuck to get to the gate to catch the bus and at the same time wiping your feet on the grass.

I was never very popular with my school teacher,, Miss Booth , always complaining about my smelly and dirty feet. Come to think about it,, I never did have many friends at school.
Cambodia,,,, Don't fall in love with her.
Like the spoilt child she is, she will not be happy till she destroys herself from within and breaks your heart.
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Cinnamoncat
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Cinnamoncat » Tue Jul 23, 2019 12:08 pm

Before, I posted a link to a chapter about Sihanoukville, but I edited my book quite a lot, so someone might like this excerpt about teaching at Ream. I posted a photo of myself before, with my driver's Ak 47. I liked the students at Ream, but it wasn't an easy time to be traveling. Anyway, this is a short section from my book, "Love and Loss in Cambodia: a memoir."

At ACE Sihanoukville, we taught for the regular English program at the school, but the administrators in Phnom Penh also sold contract jobs and we travelled to other businesses near Sihanoukville and taught classes. One job entailed traveling to the beer factory, Cambrew, a drive out near Route 4, to teach English. Another job meant traveling a road with jungle and lots of brush to teach at Ream Naval Base.
At Ream, the plan was to teach the Cambodian Navy how to speak English to communicate with the Australian military who trained them in technical matters. Sebastian’s gripe, and later, Ken’s, was that the long drives were out of town. We weren’t supposed to leave the safe confines of Sihanoukville, but when the Australian government and the school administrator wanted us to, it was safe. The drive to Ream Naval Base was especially worrisome. The road meandered along a brushy area near a hilly region. It narrowed in places. Ken taught for a term at Ream, and I taught there the next term. I was recovering from food poisoning or giardia, so I felt ill all the time. On top of that, I felt anxious about my personal safety. I was driven there by a Khmer bodyguard decked out in a green military uniform. He had a grenade in the console and an AK 47 on the back seat of the Toyota Camry. He smiled widely and told me what to do in case of emergency, “Don’t worry, I think no problem, but if problem, maybe lie down in car and I shoot the gun. Or I throw the grenade.”
At Ream, the students were mostly nice people, and protective of me. Not all of them. A younger man asked me if “pillow talk” was the best way to learn a language. He constantly made sexual remarks, some of which were funny in awkward English. I couldn’t laugh as it would have encouraged more of the same. I couldn’t be sarcastic, which doesn’t work well with language learners because then you have to explain why you said the opposite of what you meant.
I stared at him and said, “Stop talking now. Thank you.” That didn’t work very well. The other students rolled their eyes and shook their heads when he talked. One day, he asked me, “Teacher, you know the sad thing about nuns?” He said, “They never know the ‘joy’ of marriage.”
In Khmer language, the word “joy” is the equivalent of “fuck,” so he was either clever or repeating an old joke. I stared at him, mildly annoyed. Several men in class muttered and looked angry, and said he was no good. A few days later, the highest ranking officer of the student group told me that the jokester was moved to a remote island outpost and would be there until English lessons were finished.
"Love and Loss in Cambodia: a memoir" available on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0578537788
SternAAlbifrons
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by SternAAlbifrons » Tue Jul 23, 2019 2:33 pm

I never looked into this thread before but Cin's post above just alerted me to it.
i posted this once before, on a brief stint in another place. We were talking about telephones.

' Different then.
For me, the really big fundamental change, when it all went a bit bland, was around the time that regular telephone service became available in this part of the world. By and large, that is when the feeling of real isolation, real separateness, ended. Around the very late 70's in most of SE Asia.

Imagine, here solo - no communication back home, no coordinating, no chatting, no urgent messages, no lifelines, no money transfers, no google info. Forget home altogether, you are the inhabitant of another planet now.
It was easier to find adventure without a phone.

Sorry to be a boring old man of the worst kind - but at least it means i can get a few cheap thrills by pouring a bit of scorn on the smarty smartphone adventurers every chance I get.
snigger-chuckle-fart
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Kung-fu Hillbilly
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Kung-fu Hillbilly » Tue Jul 23, 2019 2:42 pm

I was telling my nephew the other day how I'd be in Northern India or Sumatra or some other place writing back to loved ones so as to let them know my movements over the following few months. Often I'd have already been home a month or two when that letter arrived.
The idea that seeing the world is going from place to place to look at obvious things is an illusion natural to dull minds.
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Duncan
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Duncan » Tue Jul 23, 2019 3:56 pm

Kung-fu Hillbilly wrote:
Tue Jul 23, 2019 2:42 pm
I was telling my nephew the other day how I'd be in Northern India or Sumatra or some other place writing back to loved ones so as to let them know my movements over the following few months. Often I'd have already been home a month or two when that letter arrived.

Yea, but there's stories you have told your nephews and you haven't told us.. Hundreds of members on this forum and every wants to keep their memories a secrete and take them to the grave with them. Either that or some people have very bad memories.

Like , I want to hear that story that Taa once told about how he would collect toothpicks when he was a kid , and how he would glue them all together to make a log of firewood to sell.

Come on Taa, tell us that story again.
Cambodia,,,, Don't fall in love with her.
Like the spoilt child she is, she will not be happy till she destroys herself from within and breaks your heart.
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Cinnamoncat
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Cinnamoncat » Tue Jul 23, 2019 9:46 pm

SternAAlbifrons wrote:
Tue Jul 23, 2019 2:33 pm
I never looked into this thread before but Cin's post above just alerted me to it.
i posted this once before, on a brief stint in another place. We were talking about telephones.

' Different then.
For me, the really big fundamental change, when it all went a bit bland, was around the time that regular telephone service became available in this part of the world. By and large, that is when the feeling of real isolation, real separateness, ended. Around the very late 70's in most of SE Asia.

Imagine, here solo - no communication back home, no coordinating, no chatting, no urgent messages, no lifelines, no money transfers, no google info. Forget home altogether, you are the inhabitant of another planet now.
It was easier to find adventure without a phone.

Sorry to be a boring old man of the worst kind - but at least it means i can get a few cheap thrills by pouring a bit of scorn on the smarty smartphone adventurers every chance I get.
snigger-chuckle-fart
This is spot on. Things were radically different before cell phones.
"Love and Loss in Cambodia: a memoir" available on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0578537788
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Kung-fu Hillbilly
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Kung-fu Hillbilly » Thu Jul 25, 2019 1:49 am

I’m sitting in the Australian embassy Phnom Penh with half an ounce of bush weed up my arse. I’d just cashed $500 worth of travelers cheques I’d reported stolen after having picked up the fresh new valid replacements from the bank. The Australian embassy, after a lot questions and generally being difficult about the whole thing, are handing over more money after my tales of woe, and I’m about to head back to Thailand for new years cashed up and ready to party.

I get to the border late and miss the crossing so have to spend the night in Koh Kong. I go out for a beer and realize there’s a big show with outdoor stage and around five or six hundred locals watching at the hotel/casino. I meet a hot Aussie chick and we drink together. Someone sends over free booze (because the chick is hot) and later a staff member asks if we would like to go to a private function courtesy of the person who bought our booze. (Coz the chick is hot)

We end up at the show after party with some famous Thai movie fella, cast from the show we just watched, including the obligatory down syndrome comedy side kick. The guy who bought us the booze and invited us comes over and yeah, he tried all night to shag the hot Aussie bird. I drank Johnny till the sun came up and we had a blast.

I cherish the memories and madness of youth.
The idea that seeing the world is going from place to place to look at obvious things is an illusion natural to dull minds.
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Duncan
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Re: Old Time Stories

Post by Duncan » Mon Jul 29, 2019 12:11 pm

Image


That photo taken 35 years ago, is of a New Guinea Bean, They are easy to grow and just like Jack and his beanstalk they will grow up and over buildings and trees. Although you can eat them when about a foot long , they have a soft white flesh inside, a bit tasteless but absorb the flavors and colors of other vegies they are cooked with. Most of the ones I grew were fed to the chooks and pigs.

This one was dried in the sun and it turned brown in colour then hung from the ceiling in a corner of the kitchen in the backpacker accommodation I had on the farm. It was always a item of interest and the question always was '' what is this ''?

If it was a female asking,, the answer was,,, A dried penis from a Sperm Whale,,,,,, [ We lived near the ocean ]

Usually it was enough to stop the conversation , and you could hear a pin drop, or were deafened by the roars of laughter.

To this day I can still see the '' yuk '' look on one girls face, as she had been holding onto it for several minuets , then ran to the kitchen sink to wash her hands using several handfuls of dish washing soap.

Today I often wonder how many backpackers that stayed on the farm have told their children , family and friend what a Sperm Whale's penis looks like.
Cambodia,,,, Don't fall in love with her.
Like the spoilt child she is, she will not be happy till she destroys herself from within and breaks your heart.
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