To get an iced coffee with milk is quite a trial in the morning. To start I'm barely conscious without the ante meridian infusion of caffeine. My communication skills - in any language - are severely hampered. My patience for stunned waiters and waitresses at a foreigner speaking khmer is very low. And then I try to get the order out as fluently as possible. It rarely works. But I'm usually so desperate for my fix that I take whatever caffeinated beverage they decide I asked for - usually NOT what I thought I asked for.
For several naive years I asked for iced coffee incorrectly. One is supposed to say, 'coffee, milk, ice' in that exact order. It doesn't help that the khmer phrase is a tongue-twister at the best of times, the difficulty level upgraded by the lack of current caffeine supply in the blood-stream.
Once I realised I'd been saying, 'coffee, ice, milk' and not the correct order, after a kindly khmer friend corrected me, I thought my troubles would be over. Not so.
I would say my chances of a correct order have increased twenty per cent. But no more. There are mornings where I forget the correct order, or my tongue refuses to operate under direct instruction from the cerebral command center. There are plenty of times when my servers refuse to believe I'm even speaking a language they understand. And so I get a blank stare, then a polite shake of the head and a softly spoken, 'I Don't understand' to which I reply, 'you don't speak Cambodian'? Another smile and shake of the head. I repeat myself. This time my interlocutor turns around to find his/her eldest child who is studying English at school from a Cambodian teacher who learnt English from a non-native speaker. Then there is a brief tussle over who's second language skills are better than the other. If my Khmer is better we finally discover together that I really do speak Khmer and I want an iced coffee with milk, thanks very much.
