Greed

The sleepy port town of Sihanoukville isn’t the best the world has to offer. The beaches aren’t kept too well. The massive new port makes the whole place feel a bit industrial. The town itself doesn’t bring out the best in you. It’s easy to feel suspicious of the old tourist men and most of the town feels a bit unkempt. I wouldn’t head back to S’ville if I had a choice, especially in the heat of April. And if any of you are looking for beaches to visit in SE Asia, I’d encourage you to head elsewhere. Come to Cambodia for the culture, Khmer food and kindness, a bit less for its main coastal city.

Still, amidst all of this, something astonishing happened. And it would almost be worth a return. It’s an annual event that can only be described as the blessing of creation. It’s the reason why people have given thanks at the time of harvest for thousands of years. Because sometimes (perhaps often-times), the things that emerge from the earth are the best things in the world.

Let me be frank. I am talking about mangoes.
When you grow in up Jersey, mangoes are beyond exotic. They weren’t exactly in high supply at the local Acme and as gifted as my Mom is in the culinary arts, mango never really made it into our regular meal rotation. In fact, mango was so off my radar, that aside from the first taste of Mango nectar (which I had in Italy at 18) I didn’t even know how a mango grew. Did you pick it off a tree? Did it grow like a vine on the ground? Was it more like a tomato plant? Like Corn?

But who doesn’t like mango? It’s one of the world’s perfect foods. Even when you don’t get a particularly good one, it’s still fantastic. But I’ve never been in India for mango season (home to over half of the world’s mangoes) and I thought I might miss it all together again. Ah, but how the world smiles at me sometimes. When I arrived in Cambodia, not only was it the height of mango season, but the climate was particularly good for growing the magical fruit. On top of that, S’ville happens to be home to the best orchards, I’m sure, in the country.

On top of that, the hotel I stayed at had steady access to the best mangoes I have ever tasted. And by steady access, I mean that I ate their pretty much three meals a day for a month and at every lunch and dinner, they provided mango. I’m not talking like they plopped a fruit in front of me and asked me to grind out the hard work of peeling and pitting. Nay. I’m talking royal, nay, palatial treatment. Fresh-cut, fresh-out-of-the-fridge absolutely perfect mango dripping with unparalleled natural sweetness. If you have ever had what I just described, then you are with me. This is as close as I’m feeling to a Garden of Eden vibe.

Those who haven’t, you might be thinking: “Mango twice a day for a month? Chris, maybe you’ve been gone a little too long. Are you okay?” Fair enough. But I can tell you without question that this mango was so special, that I would have eaten it three times a day (and actually made a strong [but unsuccessful] push to the management to try and arrange such a situation).

But I wasn’t alone. In fact, what unfolded around the mangoes was actually a pretty good study of how the world works. Every meal, the catering staff would have 3 platters of mango available. This would certainly be enough for every one of us to have a reasonable taste of mango at every meal. It wouldn’t be a lot of mango for each person. And it might not satisfy completely, but it would allow for everyone to have a taste of the glorious goodness.

Interesting though, with limited resources and appetites;This is the combination that essentially creates most of the world’s problems.

And so it was (though without the horrifying consequences of greed on a world scale). When the mango emerged from the frosty chill-box, some would aggressively pursue their fill while others would play off like they weren’t eager but still quietly got their fill. Some would send others to get it for them so as not to look “wantish”. Some took unapologetically while other seemed almost unable to enjoy what they took if other’s were lacking. Some took seconds before others took firsts. Some gave up on mango entirely while others never took a meal without a mango. And how different cultures differences worked on this issue too (about 35 of us from 18 countries)!

Ha! This would have been an incredible social experiment to monitor beyond my playful observances and musings. Real data would have been fantastic. Who took how much and how often? And how did it affect the way others felt and acted and reacted?

So can mango be compared to oil, gold, water, land? It’s a bit of a stretch, but damn if I didn’t see, clear as could be, the way the world works. And damn if I didn’t eat a lot of mango this last month (you can take the boy out of America, but you can’t take America out of the boy!).