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CAMBODIA PART II: STREET FOOD
My wife Lynn is so-so loving.
Loving-loving-loving, tra-la-la. But every
so often she opens the secret vault of my
archived sins. One that often pops up is
“you’re fat”. I’m punished with 20 grapes
for breakfast, a cucumber for lunch and a
few wrinkly prunes for supper.
The Land of Khmer saved me from
such a regime, and I went on wondrous
walkabouts with the freedom to snack
and nibble on whatever glistened, tasting
anything new or appealing. No camera
rucksack with two cameras, lenses, flash
56 // MAKE MEMORIES FOR LIFE
and tripod to weigh me down, just a single
Canon strapped to my wrist. If someone
wanted to steal my camera, they’d have to
cut off my arm.
Street photography is about unobtrusive
behaviour, a kind of cool-casual
nonchalant way of moving. I often use the
“chat, smell, point, motion, talk-more and
praise” approach in market walkabouts.
Then, almost as an afterthought, I nod and
smile, then get a friendly OK to shoot. This
obviously varies from country to country.
In most southern African countries, if
you’re lucky, you’ll get away with a small
payment. If you’re photographing anything
linked to the Masai in Kenya, take thick
rolls of US dollars.
The beauty of Cambodia is that street
food and pop-up kitchens are everywhere,
endless in number, style and type, offering
a multitude of different Khmer foods.
These stalls and kitchens are clean and
well stocked, and one can buy almost
anything edible under the sun. It must be
said, though, that the larger fish and meat
markets are not for the puny of stomach:
the floors are usually wet and reflect an
array of pungent smells, smoke from