Back in 2019, life tasted as sweet as an iced sugarcane juice at the Phnom Penh night market. The boss was throwing money around, handing out $800 red packets and heavy boxes of mooncakes. Who would have guessed that was as good as it would ever get? Once the pandemic hit, the perks started deflating like a flat tire—dropping from $500 to $300, then down to $200 and $100, while the mooncakes shrank to just two lonely pieces. This year, they skipped the drama altogether and completely let me go. I didn’t even need to bother quitting.
Sure, the industry is freezing right now, but walking through the hot Phnom Penh breeze, I don't have much to complain about. This place gave me my first real pot of gold and got my early dreams off the ground. Even if I'm packing my bags to head back home, this chapter is something I can always look back on with pride. Still, before I leave, I have to vent about the exchange rate: the black market was going for 6.65, but payroll calculated our salaries at 7.2. That cost me over $400 a month out of nowhere. Talk about creative accounting.
The exhaust from the motos on the street is still choking, and the iced coffee from the roadside stall still packs the same punch. No matter how the exchange rates jump or the bonuses shrink, you just have to hit the gas and keep moving. Grateful for the wild ride—whatever I can’t pack in my bag is staying right here in the memories.
