Buying, Owning and Driving a Car in Cambodia Part I

Occasionally, over the more than six years I’ve lived in Phnom Penh, the thought of owning a car crossed my mind. This came partly from my utter distaste at riding motorbikes or bicycles here. I can’t deal with one hundred close calls per kilometer; the weaving and bobbing, distractions and danger coming at you from all directions. On a two wheeler I feel completely out in the open and vulnerable; there’s nothing between me and the tarmac.

It’s hard to go more than a day or two without seeing an accident or its aftermath; you know, fifty people standing around gawking at some poor bastard splayed out bleeding on the sidewalk. And every few days, it seems, I come across a friend who sports telltale bruises from a recent motorbike mishap. I even knew a guy who broke an arm in a bike accident at 4 AM and crazier still two different guys who suffered broken bones after they were hit while standing still waiting for a light.

As a result, my natural propensity for walking has nearly become compulsion; like walking to the market or on errands in the midday heat or trekking home from the bars at 1 or 2 or 3 AM. Almost no matter how tipsy (I never get really drunk) or tired I am I’ll easily walk a mile home in the wee hours. (In six years of night walking 5 or 6 times a week, I’ve only had one real scare, and I’m not sure that was justified… but that’s another story).

Of course, that mostly excludes places like Martini’s which is out of easy walking range (I live close the National Museum). In fact, I have walked home from further than Martini’s several times, but that requires getting psyched up for it, and needless to say, you don’t spend an hour walking home with a female in tow.

Mostly when I thought of driving in the capital, I figured it’d be nuts to be on the streets there, though still far safer than being on a motorbike. The other factor that makes driving seem strange is the idea of carting a couple tons of gas-guzzling metal and plastic and fabric around when most people are able to get where they need to on two little petrol-stingy wheels: for a committed lifelong eco-freak this borders on blasphemy. Also, as fuel prices are poised to rocket upward, it’s a substantial investment in a piece of machinery that may soon be useless.

But then reality reared its ugly head; in this case, about six trips per month between Phnom Penh and Kampot on the bus or taxi. I’m making a very slow transition from the capitol to Kampot. I love the little burg but can’t survive long without Phnom Penh’s night life (I’m hopelessly addicted, but that’s also another story).

The taxi can be pretty fast, averaging 2 to 2.5 hours for the 148 kilometers, but it means getting to the taxi stand, hanging around until the cab fills, being scrunched together four to a seat meant for three or paying double to sit in front and watch while the driver does cartwheels in traffic while blowing his horn incessantly.

The alternative is the bus which is far more dignified than the taxi since you get your own seat, but takes twice as long because it makes a loop around Kep and goes the long way through Kampong Trach on route 3A, rather than the shorter, more direct, route 3. It also stops a lot to get passengers on and off and has a double-loud horn and hours of karaoke TV to torment you with.

The other great negative is that the bus leaves at its own convenience, not mine: either 7ish – way too early for my taste – or sometime after noon, which in the case of the Kampot to Phnom Penh direction gets you to the big city right at peak hour. I don’t like being out in PP anytime during the day (with the possible exception of Sunday morning and holidays when almost everybody deserts the city) and especially not when traffic is heavy since it makes walking doubly difficult. In fact, that’s one of the main reasons why I’m transitioning to a smaller city.

All the aforementioned disadvantages are easily tolerable on an occasional basis, this is, after all, Cambodia, and local color and the down home experience are some of the things we’re here for. But six times a month? A total bear. In my near geezer state (age 66) I’m in the mood to make my life easy. As a result I was determined to take the elitist route and buy a car.
  
First, I should note, I’ve done a lot of mechanics: If I was going to own a car in the US, where shop rates have always been high and now average around $80 per hour, I had to do the repairs myself. Also, I’ve never owned anything less than 12 years old and they were all American made, which means I always had plenty to fix.

As a result I developed a philosophy of old car ownership. They always need work: no matter how well made they are, some parts are going to wear out. The important thing then is to choose a car you can vibe with; almost bond with, so to speak. If you really like the car you won’t freak and get irate when things go wrong, you’ll just do your best to see that they get the proper care, and suffer with them when they break down.

Looking for a car here isn’t simple; not like in America where you can literally check out thousands of offerings in the classifieds. There you can pretty much decide exactly what make and model you want and before too long you’ll find it. There are a couple of online used car listings here in Cambodia but the offerings are decidedly skimpy. The only alternative is friends.

What I really wanted was a station wagon; it gives the comfort and efficiency of a sedan with the option of carrying much larger objects than an ordinary car. In the states I always had a wagon so I could have the option of sleeping in it – an all weather camper. But wagons are very rare in these parts so I had to set that desire aside, at least temporarily – if I came across a decent one now I’d not hesitate to sell the car I just bought and switch over.

Another thing about buying a car here is that if your budget is limited ( I didn’t want to spend more than $3000 and preferred less) you’ll probably wind up with a Toyota Camry. They’re nearly ubiquitous and being Toyotas you’ll probably encounter the least hassles of any brand you might buy; not just because of their reputation, but also since there are so many of them, parts are very easy to come by and local mechanics are very familiar with them.

I thought of a 3 cylinder Daewoo Tico - they’re cheap, great on gas and kinda cute - but it’s hard to carry much in the way of people or objects in them, they’re probably quite uncomfortable on road trips and don’t negotiate rough roads as well - they seem more of a city car – and not being Japanese are likely to give you a lot more headaches.

For the sake of gas mileage, I would have preferred a Corolla with a small engine, but once again, pretty hard to find compared to a Camry. Other Japanese brands would also have been acceptable.

I also thought I should get one with a diesel engine: their fuel is cheaper and they go much further per liter. Diesels are also stronger and last longer. They cost quite a bit more, but I figured with the amount of driving I’d be doing I’d come out ahead in less than a year. However, they have the disadvantages of not performing as well as gas, being noisy and more polluting, and are more expensive to fix. In fact, nearly all the diesel Camrys here are conversions. Almost all left hand drive Camrys in Cambodia were imported from the US where diesels are a rarity.

I wound up looking at two diesel Camrys before I bought a gas engine one. They were both late ‘80’s and both owners asked $2500. The first one - the deal was arranged by a Cambodian friend - was brought for me to look at with no license plates. Seemed pretty strange; why no plates? Still it was in pretty good shape and I was prepared to buy it but under the condition that it was outfitted with new style plates.

There are lots of cars around with the old style ones but I know they’re phasing them out and really did not want to hassle it later on. I gave the guy a deposit to hold it for me but when I came a week later with the remainder of the money it had only one plate and that was an old style one. Seemed fishy to me and refused to buy it without the agreed upon new plates. They went down to the tax office, this was in Kampot, and were told it would cost $200 for new plates ($200 because it was originally registered in Phnom Penh, if they applied in the capitol they were told it’d be about $70) so they just disappeared with my deposit. First lesson: don’t make a deposit unless it’s a very small amount you won’t mind losing.

The second one was being used as a taxi, which immediately sets up a red flag, but it too was in pretty good shape. The engine sounded good and produced no smoke at idle, but when I asked the owner to rev it up, it sent out a big cloud of black smoke. He said that all diesels smoke. Yes, I returned, but not like that. It might have been fixable with a minor adjustment, but I wasn’t going to take a chance with a car that made me embarrassed to drive.

Then a gas ’88 Camry owned by a friend turned up priced at $2100 . It was an ideal car to take a chance on for a couple of reasons. First, it only had 120,000 miles (200,000 km’s) on it; for a Toyota engine, hardly used. The way you can tell that the mileage is genuine, that the odometer hasn’t been tampered with, is by looking at the interior. This one has the original fabric, not those fake-leather seat covers you see on almost all old Camrys, and it’s in perfect shape: there isn’t a tear, worn area or noticeable stain in the entire car. The other way you can tell is by how well the driver’s door fits – if it fits snugly and closes easily it’s within the 100,000 mile range.

The other thing that made it a good bet is that it was owned by a guy who’s not hurting for money. He put a lot of dough into it – with documentation - in the two years he had it. By the time a car reaches the one hundred grand mark it’s almost certainly going to need things like brakes, c-v joints, etc., and that work was done. Finally, though not terribly important, it’s white. Here in the tropics, the only color that makes sense is white, especially since I rarely use the air conditioner.

It’s about the most nondescript car in Cambodia, but think of it this way: if somebody says, “follow that white Camry” they’d be wasting their time.

In fact, it’s given me a lot of trouble in the three weeks that I’ve had it; but all minor and par for the course till I whip it into shape. To be continued.