20 LIFESTYLE
Tuesday February 24, 2009
LIFESTYLE
CONNED IN CAMBODIA HOT
In a travellers tale gone wrong, Partrick Harte shares his experience of
being Hustled in Cambodia...
L
ast year I embarked on the
stereotypical backpacker
trail with the aim of 'explor-
ing the world'. The trip was fairly
standard - beaches, beer and bum-
ming around. However there was
one event that will stay imprinted
in my memory forever- when I
played an illegal poker game in a
Cambodian kitchen and nearly got
myself into a debt of $20,000 dol-
lars. Sounds a little extreme for
your average backpacker, I know.
In a vague attempt to deter others
from getting into this rather unlike-
ly situation and for your reading
pleasure, here is how it happened...
I was sitting alone eating
lunch, when a rather portly Cam-
bodian figure moved towards me
and sparked up a conversation,
partly intrigued and partly be-
cause I couldn’t really walk away I
obliged. The man introduced him-
self Mr. Niat. It became apparent
that he and his family were to be
visiting the UK in a few months,
and was apparently impressed
by my knowledge on what to see.
It turned out that Mr. Niat
was a well paid (by Cambodian
standards) casino manager and he
desperately wanted me to visit his
family. In exchange for my advice
on what to see (and the possibility
of meeting in London), I would get
a traditional Cambodian lunch.
With that, we decided to meet
the next day. Seemingly inconse-
quentially at this point Mr. Niat
randomly bumped into his ex-pat
English friend “Richard”.
Sure enough the
next day, Mr. Niat met me
and took me to the fam-
ily appartment. At first
I cannot deny that I felt
very secure as we shared
a delicious home cooked
lunch. The conversation
was flowing, so I asked Mr.
Niat where his wife that he
had so desperately wanted
me to meet was. Apparent-
ly his daughter has ‘brain
issues’ and this morning
she had some sort of ter-
rible fit - thus she and her
mother had gone to hospital.
Soon after this Mr.
Niat told me he wanted to let
me in on a little secret. Work-
ing at the ‘Holiday Palace’
as a chip table manager, Mr.
Niat apparently had a deal
going with the owner where
he wanted ‘observant white
westerners’ like myself to
simply win on the blackjack
table. The idea was that when
westerners in the loop like
myself would win, others in
the casino would see this and bet
more. Mr. Niat having worked in
Casino’s his whole life could flick
through a deck of cards and re-
member the order of every single
card, by doing this he would then
signal to me what card was coming
next and with complete confidence
I could bet accordingly. This was
what Richard had apparently been
doing with Niat for some time.
For a penniless backpack-
er the proposition was certainly
tempting, Mr. Niat said in one day
I could earn $2500. But this was
Phenom Penn in Cambodia, a city
rife with corruption, drugs, gang-
sters and some of the most bru-
tal jails in the world. No amount
of money would tempt me to do
something like this. To avoid the
awkwardness of saying ‘no’ there
and then, I decided to play along
until I left his house and never
contact him again. However this
was not as easy as it sounds. Mr.
Niat wanted to show me how the
scam worked. I was shuffled into
a kitchen and a handful of casino
chips were placed in front of me.
The supposed scam was pretty sim-
ple, a system of hand signals from
Mr. Niat to signal when to bet.
After a good half hour I be-
came somewhat of an expert and
Mr. Niat said I was ready for some
‘real life experience’. He had ar-
ranged for a private game of cards
for me and a high rolling gambling
friend of his. $200 was wedged
into my hand and Mr.Chang
- a weedy looking millionaire
businessman enters the room.
After about four or five
hands it was fairly obvious that
Mr. Niat’s cheating strategy was
working, I was up $1900 dollars,
and there appeared to be no way I
could lose. It is strange to say but
there was a side of me that felt no
guilt as I seemingly ripped off this
millionaire. Why was I playing
along? Perhaps it was the sense
of sympathy I had for Mr. Niat
and his daughters
‘brain prob-
lems’ or maybe the idea that
the more I gambled the sooner
it would be until I could leave.
As the sixth hand came
into play, I had three cards add-
ing up to 21 and Mr. Chang had
two cards which (according to
Mr. Niat) added up to 20. At this
point Mr. Chang opened a suit-
case packed full of dollars and
proceeded to purchase thousands
of dollars worth of chips. Mr.
Niat being naturally keen for
me to bet even more allowed me
to have credit from the dealer.
YORK VISION
Eventually we ended up
with the sum of $20,000 dollars
on the table, and, just as we were
about to turn our cards over Mr.
Chang refused. He wanted to see
my money, the odds were too high.
After a seemingly endless argu-
ment about what we were to do, It was hilari-
ous:
it was agreed that I had an hour Drama Soc
to get my cash, whilst the cards
were sealed into envelopes. Mr.
Chang rushes off on business
and I am left alone with Mr. Niat.
The moment Mr.Chang left,
Mr.Niat became somewhat eclectic
and started to crying ‘tears of joy’.
He said he would get me the $20,000
to play with. However after three
to four phone calls it became ap-
parent that there was a problem-
he could only get $15,000 dollars.
And guess who he wanted to pay
the remaining $5,000? Mr. Chang
begged me to try anything to raise Thank God
this revenue - use my credit card, it's back!
sell my watch or put my mobile
phone on the table, he was obvi-
ously desperate. I was in a state of
sheer dread. The situation had gone
way too far - never was I going to
risk my money on such an immor-
al, illegal and potentially threat-
ening situation. So I ran for it.
As the adrenaline wore
off and my mind gradually be-
came clearer, I started to proc- Vanburgh
ess what exactly had just hap- dinners to
pened. In exchange for my $5000, keep us warm!
Mr. Chang would have revealed
pontoon. I would have walked
off $5000 down. Mr. Chang,
Mr. Niat and Richard would
have walked away laughing.
I can understand why you
might frown at my idiocy to let
the situation go so far, but trust Rag Week-
me, when this plan was hatched our pockets
it was designed to freeze rational are empty!
thought. The personal connec-
tion I supposedly had with Mr.
Niat, the daughters brain prob-
lems, the English man involved,
Mr. Niat’s tears and the fam-
ily trip to England - all small
features that slowly forced
me to become indoctrinated
by what I can only imagine Valentines.
was a team of, highly trained, All over for
another year.
and lets face it, probably
highly dangerous gangsters.
Hangovers!
They're getting
worse!
NOT