The rainy season may have come early this year, but the Cambodian capital seems to be suffering a severe drought. In bars across urban Phnom Penh, a host of stylish, educated, articulate, politically savvy young women forlornly swivel their olives as they glance around at the myriad manifestations of Mr Wrong.
Between the aged and the incoherent, the sexually unavailable, sexually unappealing and more alarmingly, the sexually unclean, there seems to be little on offer for the discerning, attractive, informed 20- to 30-something bachelorette.
And while it may be the stuff of urban myth, the alleged “man drought” seems to be inciting real-life tragedy amongst many aggrieved and more than a little aggravated female expats.
“I thought my standards were low at home in Bristol, but then I came to Phnom Penh and realised there was even less on offer,” said Therese, a 29-year-old NGO worker.
Her friend, UN employee Sarah, agrees. “I love living here, but this place seems to attract weird types,” she said. “Either they’re alcoholics, mildly Asperger’s or have a thing for girlie bars.”
Such a qualifier has almost become a standard clause in appraisals of the capital by single foreign residents, the majority of whom are drawn to Cambodia by vocational opportunities and cultural interest.
The perceived “man drought” has been a concern for many women, particularly those mid-30s, career-oriented professionals, to whom Cambodia is such an appealing destination.
The general perception is that Cambodia attracts restless personalities, often escaping personal or social problems in their home country.
This theory is consistent with the more common criticisms of the archetypal, middle-aged adrenalin-seeking Phnom Penh expat male, and yet, the dissatisfaction and disparagement may be bilateral.
“I think there’s a lot of really ambitious, high-achieving women in Phnom Penh,” said Brian, a 27-year-old American aid-worker who has been single for two of his three years in Phnom Penh. “They’re often very successful and perfectionistic, and sometimes that translates to them not being willing to make any sacrifices or compromises, to accept anything outside of their ideal in men.”
So too, 29-year-old Richard, who has worked as an advertising agent in the capital for the last six months is cynical about the clarion cries of “drought”.
“I have a decent job, didn’t fall out of the ugly tree, don’t smoke, drink or do drugs [or prostitutes], yet I don’t see any single ladies banging down my door”, he said. “You’d think with all the whinging going on, I might have had at least one woman ask me to dance or say ‘hi’ or something. Maybe it’s my fault for not going up and ‘cracking on’ to them, which, call me old-fashioned, but just isn’t my style.”
So is the country really plagued by a crisis of nature, or does the calamity just arise from a grievous failure of pheromones, fortunes or fastidiousness?
The facts certainly indicate a dearth of testosterone, with the preliminary results of the first national census, released in September 2008, suggesting an imbalance of some 400,000 women across the country.
While comprehensive data on the capital was due to be published this week, a similar study by the Planning Department of Phnom Penh Municipality in 2004 also found that 291,063 of the city’s total 558,095 residents aged 18-64 years were female.
Yet the studies do not account for the fluctuating but vocal foreign population, nor can they reflect the many nuances of age, and sexual or cultural preference amongst either the expat or Khmer populations.
So where do all these statistical and anecdotal vagaries leave your average single woman come 2am on another steamy Saturday night in the capital?
In the absence of hard facts, it seems that it may take some hard evidence, or perhaps just a few more martinis, to renew hope amongst Phnom Penh’s lonely hearts.
Using the Facebook networking tool, Phnom Penh’s Most Eligible Bachelor 2009 kicked off to an underwhelming response, posing the question: Can you really find love in Phnom Penh?
In a last-ditch effort to put the bachelor controversy to bed, as it were, once and for all, The Post put out a wide-ranging call to eligible young men to show themselves or risk eternal damnation – or worse still, celibacy.
The inaugural Phnom Penh’s Most Eligible Bachelor 2009 competition sought to identify and award general excellence in single male residents between the ages of 25 and 40.
The contenders were judged in accordance with the key selection criteria, the four fundamental ‘Q’s': IQ (Intelligence Quotient), EQ (Emotional Intelligence Quotient), SQ (Style Quotient) and HQ (Handsome Quotient).
And the findings were pleasantly astonishing.
And after surveying the range of talent on their very doorstep for a top three (equal) winners, the panel of judges believe they may have sufficient evidence to divest – figuratively if not yet literally – the myth of the man drought.
If you would like to let us know what you think, you can comment or contact the panel at the Facebook group Phnom Penh’s Most Eligible Bachelor 2009.
(The original article is from The Phnom Penh Post)
