Pimp My Ride
Tuesday, 30 June 2009 14:27
While the moneyed elite lavish thousands to spruce up their luxury SUVs, Simon Jacy discovers that even the most modest of motos is ripe for a makeover.
Motorbikes of every description can be found across Cambodia. As leather-clad bikers on Japanese performance machines blaze down the highways and crusty off-roaders manhandle nimble dirt-bikes through the forest primeval, the capital’s scrawny youth cruise the boulevards on a motley assortment of mopeds. But, like adolescents all over the world, these would-be rebels without a cause (steo in Khmer) strive to be different, customising their humble scooters any way they can – less ‘pimp my ride’ than ‘pimp my snide’.
Late afternoon at an ordinary petrol station in southern Phnom Penh and the forecourt has just been taken over by bikers. But the gang, mostly gawky, self-conscious teenagers lounging on thin-tyred modified mopeds, draws only mild interest from the tired commuters. A lone disapproving grandmother shoots evil stares at a giggling pair of girls, their bleached hair and skimpy skirts still a slight shock in conservative Cambodia.
Gentle rebellion is what these gatherings are all about – showing off new clothes, hairstyles and, most of all, mopeds. “I spend a lot to keep my bike looking different from other bikes. It’s like getting a new hairstyle—when I change my style, I change the way my bike looks,” says the painfully awkward Vatthanak, 19-year-old owner of a pink Yamaha Fino moped with spiderweb-fine alloy wheels that sport a coil of glowing red fairy lights inside. The parked bike emits a disconcerting, shrieking sound every so often, perhaps appreciative of its owner’s fawning commentary. “The wheels are from one of my friends,” he explains, bristling with pride. “He said they were too small to drive with so he sold them to me. The pictures [stickers] come from near O’Russey Market.”
A cluster of stores bounded by construction wholesalers and Chinese hairdressers, this district near O’Russey Market is a Mecca of bike modification, every shop an Aladdin’s cave of gaudy tat. Heavy books of garish stickers hang above shopkeeper Rith’s doorway like slaughtered carcasses. The smiling 40-something was unsure why modification had become so popular. “I don’t know why but I can say all my customers are young. It is the new Cambodia. People want to have new things and to look trendy.” Rith errs on the conservative side with an 80s Honda Cub, a leaping tiger on each flank the only embellishment. He says cheap mirrors, hanging from the rafters like fantastical fruit, are his latest stock addition, thanks to recent changes in the traffic law.
Some worry that this harmless hobby could mutate into something much more sinister. Malaysia has seen its estimated 200,000 illegal moped street racers—called Mat Rempit, a derivation of ‘ramp it’—morph from romanticised daredevils into bag-snatching hoodlums committing brazen street crimes in intimidating gangs. Indeed, the Malay police last month warned that Mat Rempit would now be labelled Samseng Jalanan, or ‘road thugs’, with anyone caught street racing sent straight to jail. The snarling bikes of the Malay Mat Rempit, boasting bored out blocks and other mods, have also inspired Thai gangsters to aggressively up-rate their underpowered underbones. Hundreds of Thai racers, many of them with links to Bangkok’s shadowy underworld, have so far been sent to jail.
In Cambodia, while youths are willing to make substantial aesthetic changes to their rides, they usually baulk at major mechanical overhauls. Pimped mopeds are more for synchronised cruising than chase or contest. There is a distinct animosity between the disdainful riders of wheezy mopeds and the, usually older and wealthier, owners of larger motorbikes proper. Still, any cursory trip around town will confirm that suicidal show-offs are all too willing to risk their lives in stupid stunts. There is some anecdotal evidence of performance modification of mopeds, though the low price of bigger bikes compared with the rest of the region means boy racers can get their hands on something powerful with relative ease.
Changes to the Cambodian traffic law, including conservative speed limits, mandatory helmets and a ban on drink driving, could also put the brakes on this new fad. Persistent threats of fines and other penalties have seen sporadic adherence to the new code. However, fines of less than a dollar do little to deter owners of bikes that cost over a thousand times that amount, and, as Cambodian cops are equipped with only asthmatic 125cc Chinese chicken-chasers, simply running away is an easy option. Phnom Penh’s finest may have nothing to worry about anyway: The rigours of the ongoing economic downturn are leading the customisation craze away from speed. Riders once satisfied only with the most modern automatic mopeds, Honda Airblades and Suzuki Clicks, are now turning to vintage models, including the Lilliputian Honda Chaly and the legendary Honda Cub. Elegant in their simplicity and very economical, these are prized for their durability.
The first real four-stroke moped and officially the most successful motorcycle model in history, the Honda Cub has recently gained a cult following in both West and East. After having its engine oil replaced with chip fat, being vastly overloaded and dropped off a building – abuse that couldn’t kill the plucky Cub – Charlie Boorman declared the Cub officially the best motorcycle ever. What better ride to pimp?
Motorbikes of every description can be found across Cambodia. As leather-clad bikers on Japanese performance machines blaze down the highways and crusty off-roaders manhandle nimble dirt-bikes through the forest primeval, the capital’s scrawny youth cruise the boulevards on a motley assortment of mopeds. But, like adolescents all over the world, these would-be rebels without a cause (steo in Khmer) strive to be different, customising their humble scooters any way they can – less ‘pimp my ride’ than ‘pimp my snide’.
Late afternoon at an ordinary petrol station in southern Phnom Penh and the forecourt has just been taken over by bikers. But the gang, mostly gawky, self-conscious teenagers lounging on thin-tyred modified mopeds, draws only mild interest from the tired commuters. A lone disapproving grandmother shoots evil stares at a giggling pair of girls, their bleached hair and skimpy skirts still a slight shock in conservative Cambodia.
Gentle rebellion is what these gatherings are all about – showing off new clothes, hairstyles and, most of all, mopeds. “I spend a lot to keep my bike looking different from other bikes. It’s like getting a new hairstyle—when I change my style, I change the way my bike looks,” says the painfully awkward Vatthanak, 19-year-old owner of a pink Yamaha Fino moped with spiderweb-fine alloy wheels that sport a coil of glowing red fairy lights inside. The parked bike emits a disconcerting, shrieking sound every so often, perhaps appreciative of its owner’s fawning commentary. “The wheels are from one of my friends,” he explains, bristling with pride. “He said they were too small to drive with so he sold them to me. The pictures [stickers] come from near O’Russey Market.”
A cluster of stores bounded by construction wholesalers and Chinese hairdressers, this district near O’Russey Market is a Mecca of bike modification, every shop an Aladdin’s cave of gaudy tat. Heavy books of garish stickers hang above shopkeeper Rith’s doorway like slaughtered carcasses. The smiling 40-something was unsure why modification had become so popular. “I don’t know why but I can say all my customers are young. It is the new Cambodia. People want to have new things and to look trendy.” Rith errs on the conservative side with an 80s Honda Cub, a leaping tiger on each flank the only embellishment. He says cheap mirrors, hanging from the rafters like fantastical fruit, are his latest stock addition, thanks to recent changes in the traffic law.
Some worry that this harmless hobby could mutate into something much more sinister. Malaysia has seen its estimated 200,000 illegal moped street racers—called Mat Rempit, a derivation of ‘ramp it’—morph from romanticised daredevils into bag-snatching hoodlums committing brazen street crimes in intimidating gangs. Indeed, the Malay police last month warned that Mat Rempit would now be labelled Samseng Jalanan, or ‘road thugs’, with anyone caught street racing sent straight to jail. The snarling bikes of the Malay Mat Rempit, boasting bored out blocks and other mods, have also inspired Thai gangsters to aggressively up-rate their underpowered underbones. Hundreds of Thai racers, many of them with links to Bangkok’s shadowy underworld, have so far been sent to jail.
In Cambodia, while youths are willing to make substantial aesthetic changes to their rides, they usually baulk at major mechanical overhauls. Pimped mopeds are more for synchronised cruising than chase or contest. There is a distinct animosity between the disdainful riders of wheezy mopeds and the, usually older and wealthier, owners of larger motorbikes proper. Still, any cursory trip around town will confirm that suicidal show-offs are all too willing to risk their lives in stupid stunts. There is some anecdotal evidence of performance modification of mopeds, though the low price of bigger bikes compared with the rest of the region means boy racers can get their hands on something powerful with relative ease.
Changes to the Cambodian traffic law, including conservative speed limits, mandatory helmets and a ban on drink driving, could also put the brakes on this new fad. Persistent threats of fines and other penalties have seen sporadic adherence to the new code. However, fines of less than a dollar do little to deter owners of bikes that cost over a thousand times that amount, and, as Cambodian cops are equipped with only asthmatic 125cc Chinese chicken-chasers, simply running away is an easy option. Phnom Penh’s finest may have nothing to worry about anyway: The rigours of the ongoing economic downturn are leading the customisation craze away from speed. Riders once satisfied only with the most modern automatic mopeds, Honda Airblades and Suzuki Clicks, are now turning to vintage models, including the Lilliputian Honda Chaly and the legendary Honda Cub. Elegant in their simplicity and very economical, these are prized for their durability.
The first real four-stroke moped and officially the most successful motorcycle model in history, the Honda Cub has recently gained a cult following in both West and East. After having its engine oil replaced with chip fat, being vastly overloaded and dropped off a building – abuse that couldn’t kill the plucky Cub – Charlie Boorman declared the Cub officially the best motorcycle ever. What better ride to pimp?
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