The sky is full of money
Yesterday I learned the private bets I've been quietly placing with myself could make me a rich man. I could, during my remaining days in Cambodia, bet on the sky.
As it turns out, there is a thriving rain betting industry here during the monsoon season. (I should have guessed this, with so many men sitting around doing close to nothing while so many clouds build overhead.) The game is known here as "phnal tuek phleang," and those who play it are called "rain punters," according to a recent Agence France-Presse story.
It's as simple as it sounds: You bet on what time it will rain on any given day, or how much it will rain during a specific period of time, or whether a piece of paper will be soaked by a certain time of day. Odds are calculated according to weather conditions that spotters - freelance meteorologists - report to bookies via radios.
It may sound easy to look at the sky and guess when a gathering storm will empty itself. But I assure you: it is not. During the last seven weeks I have never once accurately predicted when rain will fall. The nastiest clouds will wander off leaving nothing, or the edge of a cloud will suddenly arrive with a small shower and then scuttle off, or a friendly looking cloud will suddenly transform into a drainage pipe's worst enemy. After weeks of frustration (and leaving my poncho at home), I gave up, leaving the fate of clouds to...the clouds.
Rain betting is illegal in Cambodia. Which means nothing, of course. And how could you enforce the law, anyway? Follow anyone who looks at the sky too pensively? Arrest anyone who has placed a bucket on a rooftop? And in a country where betting on cock fights and fish fights is rampant, authorities have more important things to worry about. In the world of gambling, what could be more harmless than betting on clouds?
It's an ancient tradition, apparently brought to Cambodia by Chinese immigrants hundreds of years ago. But technology has modernized the game, thanks to cell phones and handheld radios and internet weather forecasts. But in my experience, no technology in the world can possibly track monsoon season rains closely enough to guarantee a sky gambler success. It is impossible to predict a monsoon season sky here -- and that is exactly why rain betting will never die: there will always be money to be made, whether by the bettor or the bookie.
It reminds me of Sri Lanka, where betting seemed even more culturally embedded. The best gambling game I ever heard of in that country, or anywhere, has to be this: Two or three or however many birds are sitting on a fence. Which one will fly off first?
There is so much money to be made in this world.
