My potato rescuer

This morning, as I do on many a Saturday morning, I set out to get groceries.  Today I had a special mission: to buy ingredients for mashed potatoes.  We have a pot luck at church tomorrow for Thanksgiving, so we’re making some solidly American comfort food.  (This church is English-speaking and most people either are North American or have lived there at some point.)  I was asked to bring a potato dish, so I picked mashed potatoes.

First, I went to the Western grocery store.  The recipe I found called for cream cheese, which seemed excessive to me until I was in the dairy aisle, eying it longingly.  Do you know how many months it’s been since I had cream cheese?   (OK, actually only one since I was home last month, but I think I’ve only bought it once before in Cambodia, years ago.)  I stood there looking at the packages: $5 for 8 ounces (250 grams)?  Wow, that’s painful. 

Then I spotted the giant packages: $11 for a whole kilogram.  That’s just over half the price per unit of a small package.  My mind began to calculate the possibilities.  Cheesecake.  Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.  Cream cheese cookies.  How long will it stay good?  Will it be grainy like the kind my roommate bought once last year?  How much do I care?  I decided to spring for it, ignoring the fact that I’ll be away next weekend with no time to bake, hoping my roommates could find uses for it as well.  Along with some oats and milk, I loaded it into my bicycle basket and headed to the market.

I parked in front of my usual fruit vendor stand and headed inside to the vegetable stalls.  The college girl that I always buy from laughed at me for setting potato after potato into the little plastic basket she’d passed me.  “I’m going to a party tomorrow,” I explained.  “In America this week is Holiday of Thanks.”  (I made up that phrase… I hope it made sense in Khmer.)  She helped me pick through and find the nicest potatoes, adding one to make it an even two kilograms.  “Ten thousand riel,” she told me.  Two dollars and fifty cents – good thing they’re cheaper than the cream cheese!

I still have some fruit at my house from last weekend, but I felt bad since the fruit girl had been watching my bicycle for me.  So I went for the “Christmas oranges,” which only appear around this time of year.  They’re like mini-Clementines, sweet and juicy, and they’re cheaper now than usual: 7000 riel ($1.75) per kilo.  Since my bike basket was full from the supermarket, I slipped the bag of potatoes over my right handlebar and the oranges over my left for the quick trip home. 

Just after I passed through the nearby traffic light, the potatoes’ weight burst through the flimsy plastic bag, sending them scattering.  I veered over to the shoulder and watched in dismay as big SUV’s came barreling through, potatoes bouncing under their tires.  Could they be salvaged?  I needed to leave soon for a Student Council meeting and didn’t have time to return to the market.  With a helpless expression, I groaned to the middle-aged tuk-tuk driver watching me from the corner.  “Two kilos of potatoes!  My bag broke!” 

He looked at the road thoughtfully, then darted out into traffic, scooping them up as hordes of cars began to part around him.  Good thing Cambodian traffic moves so slowly and drivers are used to interruptions like this.  Once his hands were full, he gestured to me to come pick up the rest, all the while holding out his potato-laden arms to direct the oncoming traffic around me.  Except for one that had been squashed under tires, we got them safely back to my bike, which of course had overwhelmed the kickstand and tipped over, dumping my remaining groceries.  He and the other tuk-tuk drivers laughed at me for that, but I didn’t care – I was just so glad to have my potatoes back and be spared another trip.  

I didn’t even know that driver, though I’m sure he always sees me riding past him.  I hadn’t expected he’d actually help me – it kind of seemed like a lost cause.  And I wouldn’t have been brave enough by myself to pick up all those potatoes, all over the road, with that much traffic.

I’m looking forward to mashed potatoes and other tastes of home tomorrow.  I’m looking forward to cream cheese delights in all shapes and sizes.  I have a lot of reasons to smile today, but my biggest one is that driver.

Sometimes Cambodians are really, really nice when they don't need to be.