AsiaLIFE

In an effort to stave of the recession, and following the inspiring example of British writer Danny Wallace, Nora Lindstrom spends a day saying YES – to everything.

8am, Bed

Wake up and am afraid of leaving the house knowing there is a lot to be said “Yes” to in Phnom Penh. I consider my options – hiding in bed all day, or setting out and least trying to get some work done. Figuring a day in the house might drive me nuts – and make for a rather boring article – I muster up my courage, get dressed, and head on out. Before I’ve even locked the gate I’ve agreed to take a moto somewhere. But where?

Sat on the back, I point straight on. This seems to satisfy the driver and we set off. By Wat Lanka he asks if this is where I wanted to go – “Yes,” I say. Clearly Street 278 is where I was headed.

Walking down the street, I decide to check my email. With an air of determination, I keep my gaze on the ground to avoid any unwanted hassle, but 10 metres from the internet café I hear, “tuk tuk lady?”

Damn it, I almost made it!

“Yes,” I reply with some frustration in my voice.

“Where you wanna go?”

Well, I really want to go to this internet café right here, I want to say, but taking a tuk tuk there would seem a bit silly. Unable to think of anywhere I admit I don’t know where I want to go.

“Russian market?” the driver suggests.

Yes. The Russian Market is exactly where I want to go.

As I get into the tuk tuk the driver shakes his head and wonders aloud “You want to go but you don’t know where you want to go...” I try to smile in a manner suggesting that is a completely normal thing to do.

Once at the Russian Market my instinct of (financial) self-preservation kicks in and I direct the driver to a café. There is a very real possibility I would never make it out of the market if I ventured inside. Safely ensconced within the café I sigh with relief. I still end up having three coffees as the waiter keeps asking if I would like I refill. Obviously I would.

11am, Sisowath Quay

I arrive at riverside by moto and am immediately accosted by a man selling sunglasses.

Yes, I want a pair of fake Gucci ones for US$4. And yes, I also want the daily paper. In fact, I want the same daily paper so much I buy one off the second vendor too. Shades and newspapers in hand I hurry into the relative safety of an internet café and am thankful of my effective spam filter which I am certain saves me from signing up to breast enlargements, penis extensions and dodgy offers of lucrative money transfers.

1pm, BKK Market

It had to happen at some point – going to the market. As I walk around checking out cool clothes and funky shoes the vendors look on lazily and I am lulled into thinking this trip might not be so bad after all. Thus I am completely caught off guard when a shrewd saleswoman, whom I suspect has been tipped off about what I am up to, decides that the very thing I need is a winter coat along with a sequined cap. I hesitate, but rules are rules, and so off I walk with an 80s-style kid’s coat and the cap. They might come in handy at some point...

Making my way out, I walk through the food section. Big mistake! Not only does a vendor selling vegetables manage to make me buy a whole assortment of random greens, but a vendor from the adjacent meat section sells me a chicken – a real, dead chicken. And I’m vegetarian!

With winter coat, cap, veggies and a dead chicken in hand I finally steal my way out and hop onto a moto for the only safe place I know – home. Or so I thought. Somehow I volunteer to do a run to Lucky’s. On my way into the supermarket a woman selling deodorant comes forth.

“You want?”

Yes.

“Buy from inside, special offer,” she says and points. Of course, male deodorant on special offer is precisely what I need.

When I get home the second time I decide that the only sensible thing to do is to lock myself in my room and turn my phone off. My sum total of the day includes six pointless moto rides, one tuk tuk trip, two copies of the same daily paper, shades, a sequined cap, a winter coat for the oncoming hot season, an assortment of vegetables and some male deodorant. Oh, and a dead chicken in my fridge that I have no idea what to do about - poor bird.