Improvising Cambodia, Part 1

Anyone who has been to a poor country, or even a poorer part of a richer country, knows how deeply improvisation is institutionalized.  It's a matter of saving money, managing without the proper supplies/tools, and, as we find out, a matter of culture as well.  In this series on improvisation in Cambodia, I'll be highlighting some stories that are not just "wow"-moments but also illustrate something perhaps a bit deeper.

The first story takes place on Sihanouk Boulevard in Phnom Penh, around 9pm.  For the late evening, traffic is unusually heavy in my homeward direction but eventually I navigate my moped through the tangled mess of bikes, motorbikes, cars, trucks, and pedestrians, and reach the source of the problem. A bus is broken down in the left (passing) lane and the right lane is also partially blocked because they are arranging to use two vehicles to tow the bus onward.  First impression: they're crazy -- it's hard enough towing a small vehicle with another, let alone towing a bus with two cars.  But besides their willingness to engage in such a difficult maneuver, there are a lot of juicy elements to this situation that one can look into.

Firstly, the necessity.  The broken down bus in question belongs to one of the biggest transport companies in Cambodia, so they probably have the resources (either equipment or money) to tow their buses professionally.  But then again, "professionally" is a relative term in Cambodia and powerful tow trucks are much more difficult to come by even around the big city.  Perhaps the most likely answer is that, against all odds, professional tow truck companies have shut their doors for the night and their employees are out drinking, or the company is demanding an extraordinarily high fee for the special evening service.  Along comes an employee who promises he can arrange to do it with two cars and cha-ching, the cheap late-night solution.

Secondly, the logistics.  What kind of tow cars are they using?  One mini-van and one light truck.  What kind of tow cables?  Well, honestly, a mixture of different kinds of rope (fabric-based and plastic) anchored using t-shirts at the tow-points for extra support.  How are the drivers of all three vehicles communicating with each other? Well, an extra helper is sitting on top of each of the towing vehicles where he can see the cables but is still close enough to relay messages to and from the driver.  Now, the point is that the various factors have not actually been calculated in any meaningful way.  Is the combined power of the two cars (given the angle they are towing) enough to move a bus?  Are those ropes enough and can t-shirts really secure the anchor points?  The quick answer, from my observation, is no.  I arrived when lots of engines were being revved to no avail and t-shirts were flying into the air when their capacity was breached.  And judging by the chaos of the yelling, communication was harder than they hoped.  The other question: will they succeed?  Eventually.  At some point enough help (maybe even a third or fourth car) and enough pushers will arrive at the scene to accomplish the goal.  A lot of chaos and yelling will ensue and many lengths of rope will have to be replaced, but the bus will get where it needs to go.  Even in the countryside, when a bus gets stuck in the mud, entrepreneurial villagers emerge from the woodwork and, in sufficient numbers (50-100 people), can manually push or pull a bus from the mud.  (Stories of those nature will come in a subsequent issue of Improving Cambodia).

Thirdly, the context.  The traffic was light enough that, given half a lane, there should have been no backup of vehicles.  But in true Cambodian fashion, rubbernecking passerbys were creating a 'gawkers block' that almost entirely blocked the road, leaving motorists a small and tricky passage over the sidewalk.  In total, I estimate that about two hundred people and their modes of transportation (mopeds, cars, bikes, tuk-tuks) were gathered around the scene, some even watching from the other side of the median strip (thereby creating a bit of traffic in the opposing lane as well).  Like rural people around the world who see little out of the ordinary, Cambodians (even, or perhaps especially?) in the city are, to put it frankly, nosy as hell.  One could use the more neutral term "curious", and I have been encouraged to think in this fashion by others, but I still chalk it up to unabashed nosiness.  For me, the line between curiosity and nosiness is drawn when people take their innocent observations into the non-innocent world of gossip.  In the case of this bus, I'm betting it is more curiosity than nosiness but there will still be many mealside conversations discussing not only the "incident" but creating unjustified judgments about the bus company and their questionable towing practices.

Fourthly, respect.  Cambodians are well aware of the ruckus they will create by initiating an extraordinary display of towing on one of the main boulevards in the capital, even as late as 9pm.  As a result, it is as if they intend to work under conditions that complicate the situation.  Consider the din created by rubberneckers, and the pressure created by having a few hundred eyes on your operation.  And what about the poor motorists (like me) who are in a hurry to get home and find 9pm traffic inconvenient?  All of those issues can be solved by hiring a police officer to clear the area and direct traffic.  It is not bribery - you just throw him another $5 or $10 and he gets off his couch, puts on his uniform, and shows up dutifully to wave a baton around.  Hiring out a police officer to de-pressurize the situation would also be a form of improvisation -- but apparently too much of an improvisation for guys who would dream up towing a bus with passenger vehicles...

(see you next time)