The Cambodian lines were obtained in import bricks in the mid-late eighties, that smelled like Orange Peako Tea (and Moth Balls). It had a soaring high and was the 'best of best' import.
Different incarnations have been released over the years – this strain predates Reeferman Seeds going all the way back to the Prairie Fire Seed Company.
This strains took Charles years to get to the form it is now. OPC is a refined well stabilized cross of Nepalese Indica and Cambodian Sativa
Tray of pure Laos. I plan to include on the Chocolate Thai work just out from my clone tent
These Lao grow like weeds haha they are classic tall SE asian Sativa with that old school Citris and tea / Choco terp that I started my work in 1990 with
In 1991, when Pol Pot was alive and the civil war was still going, I hitch-hiked from Vietnam to Cambodia and stayed in the Central Guest House in Phnom Penh. On the first morning I got up early and went down to the main farmer's market, not far from the centre of Phnom Penh, which is much bigger now than it was back then after the capital city was cleaned out during the "Killing Fields" years.
Walking around the market, I spotted a couple of drums of something I thought I recognised and – sure enough – they were full of long, sticky branches of dried buds that were an olive-brown colour. I pointed to the drum I thought had the most potential and handed over 500 real, which was about 50c US at the time. The lady picked up a bundle of sticks and placed them on some brown butcher's paper and put it on the scales. Then she added some more branches. Then she put a few more on top to make the correct weight, which was half a kilogram (about a pound).
I walked back to the guest house with that bundle of sticks tucked under my arm, past the police post where the cops just smiled and laughed at me. Indeed, Cambodia was truly the Land of Smiles where everyone was so nice considering their tragic history.
I got back to my room upstairs and sat at a wooden desk and started to clean the buds, which were full of seeds. I had some rolling papers I'd brought from Vietnam, and I was sharing a room with a Japanese guy who was maybe 25 (I was younger than that at the time). He asked me "What dat?" I said "Marijuana." He said "I never try marijuana." I said "You can try some of this."
I finished rolling the joint and lit it up. The weed was pretty grassy and wasn't really all that impressive. I leaned back in my chair to pass the joint to the Japanese guy sitting on his bed and the joint went back and forth a few times until I leaned back one more time and fell off my chair!
I lay on the floor, stoned as fuck! That shit crept up on us like you wouldn't believe. I just lay there, looking at the ceiling – still with the burning joint in my hand – laughing. All I could hear from the bed above me was the Japanese guy groaning: "What is happening? Marijuana. What is happening?"
I finally got off the floor to make my way downstairs to get something to eat. I left the Japanese guy lying on his bed, still groaning. "You'll be OK. Just lie here a while," I told him. "Then come downstairs when you're hungry."
He did not come downstairs until much later. And he never asked me for a smoke again.
But by then I had befriended the guest house owner and he told me of a "Special dish" he and his friends used to cook down by the river made of pot, and how they would all sleep under a tree after lunch. "Would you like to try the special dish?" he asked me. How could I refuse?
It turned out to be a chicken steamboat, cooked over charcoal, swimming in fruit and pot. I shared the dish with the guest house owner, a Dutchman and an American.
For the rest of the trip I carried a plastic bag full of cleaned buds with me everywhere I went, and had the locals put it in everything I ate. I drank it as tea, I ate it, I smoked it. I spent three weeks in Cambodia stoned as a mullet.
But everywhere I went, whenever I handed over a handful of pot to the chef to cook, my dishes always came up a bit short of pot, as I guarantee at least half of what I handed over each time ended up staying in the kitchen.
It was this seeded pot I ended up smuggling back to Hong Kong (only a few ounces) which ended up in the film canister.
I have smoked a lot of pot in my time, and I would put that shitty, seedy olive-brown Cambodian land-race weed up against anything today. Even if the THC count was not that high, the trippy, heady effect was like almost nothing you can get today.
I knew a (now deceased) Cambodian-German guy who was super conservative and anti-drug but ordered and enjoyed 'happy pizza' at the same time. He somehow rationalized it wasn't the same as smoking cannabis.
I quit growing partially because of so much easy access to "pharmacy weed" hereby .. weed... I have smoked more varieties of weed since I retired. I remember so many varieties thought lost and now have come back. Blockhead~~~ doh.. I thought it was lost forever. No! .. Um Blueberry.. There are many different brands. I've smoked more differenctiantions. LOL... I made up a new word I smoked so many different "weeds". My advice. Depends on what you want to smoke. Do you like goofy flavors like .. skittles...? Then you get flavor at sacrifice of the full cosmic buzz.
Just because I can't spell misanthrope doesn't mean I'm completely stupid.
false , size and thc content (from a bud), not the whole plant of course, is going to be exact the same, as those 2 parameters have nothing to do with eachother, epi-genetically not variable
I had a similar experience with landrace weed when I went to Jamaica. 25$ for an ounce of seedy brownish swag. You could also buy gumballs which the pickers made with the hash on their hands while riding the bus home. 5$ ball.
I was stoned to the bone after one joint. I ate 2 dinners that night, the munchies were so intense.
I had a handle of V.O. on my table, which attracted the locals to join me for a taste.
When I offered them some, they poured it in their Red Stripe Beers.
I thought that was a strange way to taste good whisky. Turns out that rum is pretty much all they could afford as imported liquor was very pricey.
I was 18 and traveling alone, it was quite an experience for me, as I had never traveled before.
I, in my misspent youth, actually sold Jamaican cannabis for the princely sum of $12 an ounce. It was very nice weed. I don't think you can even buy those genetics in Jamaica anymore, as the faster-maturing Dutch hybrids were more profitable for the growers.
