The Olympics

We walked to Olympic Stadium last evening. Don’t ask me why it’s called Olympic Stadium as I don’t think the Olympics have ever been set on Cambodian soil and, for a stadium, its pretty basic, not one of those architectural showboats erected to celebrate nationalism and athletic glory. Although, it does seem to have one of those raised flat disks that would hold the Olympic flame. I think, as we have Olympic-sized swimming pools, this must be an Olympic-sized stadium. But it will never host the Olympics; there isn’t a square centimetre of shade over the whole thing. It comes alive, but it comes alive at dusk.

The outside of the stadium is banked with soil, so you couldn’t jump off its top but you could roll down its sides, and it looks like a volcano except, when you arrive at its lip, instead of lava you see concrete walkways at the top perimeter and rows of benches that ring the inside walls all the way down to the sports field. On the pavement at the top are groups doing aerobics. In fact, every inch of pavement at the top of the stadium is covered by people doing aerobics; every group has it own sound system and the air literally vibrates with competing 4-beat pop played at an excruciating volume. Soccer balls are in play. Badminton games are underway. People jog along the bleachers, circling the stadium in descending or ascending arcs. Food vendors are squeezed onto any available piece of pavement, selling roast corn, soup, and sweet treats. The whole thing feels like an emblem of Cambodia – squeeze as many people as you can into one place, turn on the music, and make sure there’s food.