Chapter 3

Lina lived by herself on the third floor of an apartment, a French antiquity probably built during French colony, laying on Kampuchea Krom St. about a half mile away from the central market, Phsa Tmey. She bought the apartment one year later after she graduated from school, at four thousand dollars out of which three fourth was borrowed from her parents. It was agreed that fifty percents of her salary would be monthly return to her parent. It was a little hard on her as to cope up with paying the loan and the cost of living; however, she was inexpressibly proud to see her name on the legal paper of the apartment’s ownership. 

Although the apartment was built in the 50s or 60s, it had survived the brutal massacre, Khmer Rogue regime and it, strangely enough, did not fade the ancient beauty which left no marks of the tragic wars. Lina bought it for it was nicely repaired, with a length of fourteen meters, a kitchen, a bathroom next to a bedroom, a living room, and a balcony; futhermore it was located in the heart of the city, both convenient to where she worked and to the shopping centers. One inconvenient thing though was that she had to leave her motorbike in an acquaintance’s house on the ground floor and paid him fifteen thousand riels a month. She, however, was very satisfied with the view of the city, especially with bracing breeze through all the entire year on the balcony where she loved to spend her time at night. Her parents allowed her to live there by herself for some reasons; one the apartment was triple locked,　helping her to be independent was another. Lina was born in Kompong Som Ville, but moved to Battambong province since she was 5 years old, where her parents kept a stationer’s shop, which was probably the biggest shop in town. It was when she passed junior high school's graduation exam with an honor that her parents decided to send her to study in Phnom Penh, since which she had learned how to do things on her own.

She could not still believe it she let Vanna give her approval to the new guy’s dinner invitation. She thought Vanna was a bit blunt, and it was not her duty to accept the stranger’s invitation. Harmless though it seemed, it was out of interest. Her mind was shaking with the thoughts of the stranger while doing her washing with a clothes brush. Her unsettled mind let the brush scrub her own hand. As if to Awake her from the blank thought, she heard her mobile phone ringing in the living room, where she had put it on a wooden desk, the desk made from neang nuon, her favorite tree. She quickly washed her hand, and dried it with a towel hanging on the clothes line, and ran for the phone.

“Vanna?” she saw her friend’s name appearing faintly on the screen.
“Haven’t gone to work yet?” sounded with caring, she continued, “sorry, I might have upset you about the dinner date with the man,”
“Not your fault, though. You just want to be friendly with him,” Lina, however, could always remain calm with her girlfriend because nobody knew any better that her friend did not mean to disappoint anyone.
“Shall I call it off? I can always do so ‘coz I have his number,” Vanna might probably have been scrupulous in her girlfriend’s uneasiness concerning the appointment with the stranger.
“Please, don’t. I always want to have dinner at LOMORNG KHMER; you’re expecting it with pleasure, aren’t you?”

So, after all she had to meet the guy again, Lina thought. She could cancel the appointment anytime, but she chose not to. She did not want to hurt her friend’s feeing by doing so, or probably including the man’s feeling and his good intention as well. Ah yeah, it was no doubt his good intention, it must have been. Decided so, the 22 year-old girl went to back to her washing and dried the clothes in the sun, by hanging them neatly on the line near the towel. 

The sun rising a little high where she could tell the time was around 7:30 in the morning. Most Cambodians could tell time from the height or the position of the sun. They were growing and trained that way. Time to work, she thought. She came out from her room with a long blue skirt and a shirt blouse in pink, closed the front door, grasped her briefcase, and locking the double back doors. The girl said good morning to her neighbors while running down stairs. She needed to walk across the jammed street in order to take her motorbike. The weekdays’ activities were repeated the same, almost at the same time, was an immutable rhythm of her living.