This city moves at a pace so busy that it can make you wonder what t
he rush is. The locals rise early, at 5am they can be seen in the streets preparing for the day. Some are arranging low stools around an equally low table, big pots coming to boil and the steam evaporating into the early morning air. The last of the garbage is being swept into piles, and then shoveled into bins on wheels being pushed by slight looking individuals dressed in safety orange, wearing plastic shoes.
Outside of the local newspaper printing mills, men have large plastic sheets spread on the ground sorting large piles of newspapers into smaller piles of newspaper. These are bound with sting and loaded onto the back of motorbikes to be distributed to local news stands.
Women with big woven baskets tied on the back of their bikes go up and down alleys and roads, calling out what sounds to me like “bunyee”. Fresh hot bread rolls are under the hessian cover and sold door to door, providing a tasty breakfast for a very cheap price.
People are seen on balconies or in parks swinging their arms or marching to their own beat. This country is focused on preventative care, keeping fit the best way to stay healthy.
Soon the horns start blasting, the streets get busier. Everyone is moving quickly, like ants trotting in every direction, each knowing where they want to go but not necessarily taking a direct route. As the day warms up, so does the activity.
Breakfast seems to be quickly followed by lunch, with street stalls crowded again by 11.30.
Then everything stops. With full stomachs, everyone takes off for a nap. School children have either gone home for lunch or, if in daycare, camp stretchers are dragged out for the little ones to nap. Alternatively, piles of mattresses are unloaded from a storage room for comfort. Woven mats are rolled out on the floor for a snooze under a ceiling fan, shop front stalls are draped with sheets to stop theft while the shop keeper snuggles down, an arm draped over the face to provide privacy. Business doors are closed (but not necessarily locked), the lights are turned off and chairs pushed together forming a makeshift bed. I have walked in to an office to pay a bill just at this time of day and found the attendant settling down on the desk top with a stack of books providing a pillow.
The need for rest provides some interesting places to sleep.At midday, bus drivers can be seen swinging in hammocks suspended in the back of the bus, cyclo drivers have their bed on wheels and the xe om drivers (motorbike taxis) hang their legs over the handle bars and lie on their backs, pushing out the zzzzzzzz’s. 
Construction workers sit on the footpath to eat their lunch then just stretch out, looking like ten men in a bed. It doesn’t seem to matter if it is a busy or quiet part of town, a footpath or the steps of a quiet pagoda, if the need is there, any place will do.
I have seen hammocks hanging on wrought iron fences, suspended between poles with a body cocooned within. If there are possessions to be protected, an arm or leg is entwined to ensure that nobody takes off with the precious goods. But it was the funeral attendant who gave me a good laugh. In the back of the funeral truck, well adorned with elaborate decorations, was the attendant asleep between the wooden rungs that hold the coffin on its way out of town.
Eventually everyone rouses, but never in a hurry to resume where they left off. Slowly the wheels of industry turn while they rub the sleep from their eyes, turn the lights up and eventually return to work. Generally, there is another bowl of noodles to sustain them till it is time to eat again. I can understand the need for siesta, the heat makes you want to slow down. But the day starts early here and children can be heard laughing and playing well after 10pm. Eventually the lights go out, but not for long because tomorrow is only a few hour away.
