Hangin’ with the Khmer Sopranos
As I build up my knowledge of Cambodian politics and society, much of my information comes from not easily accessible sources. Thus it was that my wife and I were invited to a family function to wet a baby’s head. Here we found ourselves drinking beer and eating rice with Cambodia’s leading drugs cartel (apologies if the title is misleading – I’ve never actually seen The Sopranos; with reality like this, why would I bother?).
How it came about was this: despite the developments I outlined in the last article, there are families who are totally and literally ‘above the law’. My wife was friendly with two of a very senior politician’s nephews but hadn’t had any contact with them for sometime due to her disapproval of their nefarious activities. I advised her to get back in touch with them.
It’s like this – the vast majority of foreigners in Cambodia hang out with their own kind and lead fairly ordinary lives. However, if you have a scarily low boredom threshold like myself and intend getting involved in Cambodian society you need to know how it works.
The judicial system is, er, not too strong. In order to avoid being framed on some trumped-up charge you need either money and/or contacts. We don’t have the former. If we ever need to make a phone call, it won’t be to a lawyer but everything will be alright. However, it’s a trump card you should only play once, if at all since you really don’t want to be indebted to your protector if you can avoid it.
Thus it was that I found myself at a table next to a pair of overly-made up middle aged ladies in gaudy dresses, discussing their metamphatamine factories. I leaned over to my wife and whispered, “What did you say his job was again?” “Drug seller.” “I thought you said he was the good nephew!” Her reply was quite revealing: he is; he’s clean-cut, polite and has always been nice to her. Besides, she was comparing him to the other nephew whom I’ve yet to meet, but who appears to be a wild gun-slinger.
If rescuing little orphans is a bit hum-drum or cheesy for you, how about sexual slaves? This tale involves the mrs. and a somewhat unclear outcome. After a rather busy and stressful time, we sat down and promised ourselves a really boring and uneventful Sunday together. It was at this point that she received a very distressed call from the brother of an old friend who works in a garment factory in the country. The allegedly respectable, quiet, well-behaved younger sister had been missing for three days. The frantic parents and police had no leads other than a witness reporting that she’d been seen in a drugged state being taken from the factory.
A bit of investigation by my missus (which didn’t actually involve her leaving the sofa) led to her making the breakthrough that no one else had managed. She had been taken on ‘holiday’ to Poipet by a lady friend she’s just met that afternoon. The Thai border-crossing town of Poipet is a centre of human trafficking, gangsterdom, thievery and prostitution that is the last holiday destination on Earth. No way was her story credible; however, she was persuaded to return to her family. I advised my wife to leave the matter there; she’d done a great job but if the girl ever wants to tell us what really happened, it’s up to her – we don’t need to know.
Sralang Apsara
