What Makes a Place Possible?

I grew up in the north of Phnom Penh, with a big lake behind our house. I was connected to nature from a very young age. My father always planted trees and vegetables beside the lake. We grew food for ourselves, and we shared it with our neighbours. Whenever people came to visit, they would leave with something. It was not a business. It was simply part of how we lived.

My father is still a very active person. He keeps himself busy all the time. Looking back, I think that environment gave me my love of nature. Later, I studied agronomy at the Royal University of Agriculture. At that point, I did not know I would be doing the work I do now. I knew I loved agriculture and wanted to serve people, but agriculture is a very broad field.

The direction became clearer when I went to an exchange programme at Chiang Mai University. During university, I had applied for many scholarships abroad. Sometimes I reached the final list, but I was not selected. It was heartbreaking. I kept applying, and eventually I decided to save money for an exchange myself. If I could not get the opportunity, I had to create one.

The programme included art and craft, and a visit to a botanical garden in the mountains. It was the first botanical garden I had ever visited. I did not want to leave. I remember thinking how beautiful it was. I did not know something like this existed. That was when I understood that I wanted to explore ornamental plants, gardens and horticulture more deeply, and share that knowledge with other people.

That first exchange opened many other doors. I met people who told me about other programmes, and later I received opportunities to study and travel in other countries. I continued my studies in development, with an interest in community development and social enterprise. I kept learning about plants too. When I started the business, there were many imported plants I had never studied before. I collected books and learned as much as I could. That learning has never stopped.

Before renting the building, I had tested the plant business and Airbnb at home. It worked well, and I wanted to grow it. My idea was to have accommodation and a physical shop for the plants. I found the old building, invested in renovating it, and was getting ready to open. Then Covid happened.

Suddenly people could not travel across borders. I had already put my money into the business, including money from my family. The expenses continued, but the income I expected was no longer there. At home, I had not needed to think about rent and operating costs in the same way. This was my first time carrying that responsibility. I had been optimistic because the smaller version had worked. I had not thought enough about what to do if the plan failed.

I put the blame on myself. I thought I knew something about business, and then I realised how little I knew. I was doing everything. I was selling, cleaning, looking after the building, sometimes making deliveries myself. It was overwhelming. I was used to being there for other people, but when I needed help, I did not know how to approach anyone.

Someone from an earlier mentorship programme noticed that I was different and checked on me. He asked whether I was okay. I explained openly what had happened. Having someone I could talk to helped. I also began asking friends and people more experienced than me about the challenges in their own businesses. One problem they kept mentioning was high rent.

That made me wonder whether we could share the cost. I opened the door to other people who could use parts of the building. Friends passed the news to friends. I remained the main leaseholder, and others rented space from me. The cost was lower than if each of us rented a separate place. We could also help promote one another’s businesses.

Margaux was one of the first people there. Other shops, a café, a gallery and the rooftop bar followed. We had been together for a while before I felt that the collective needed a name. I wanted a Khmer name that local people could remember easily. Pteah Chas means old house. I also wanted people to feel at home. The building had character and heritage, and bringing people into it gave us a way to share that.

I wanted people to know about the building, but I had already spent so much on renovating it. During Covid, indoor gatherings were restricted, and events needed open space and airflow. I wondered whether we could use the rooftop. What if we held a pop-up market there?

People advised me against it. They said we needed parking, that the house was too small and old, and that people would prefer an air-conditioned mall. I remember feeling that no one supported the idea. But if I did not try, how would we know? We could not make something that pleased everyone. We had to try for the people who might enjoy it.

Then people came. There were pop-up food businesses, second-hand clothes, and the market on the rooftop. People were bored and wanted somewhere to meet. We welcomed people we knew, but also people we had never expected, including designers, architects and others who discovered the place. We kept organising events, and the community began to grow.

It made our approach clearer to me. We were building a space and organising events for people, using art and nature as a medium. I had loved art and culture since school. Being an artist had been my dream when I was young. Through Pteah Chas, those interests could come together with my love of nature and people.

The idea came during Covid, but it stayed an idea for a while. I worked on the concept and how to communicate it, and waited until I found the right person to work with. Thea first joined me as an intern. Over time, I realised that we shared many values and that he had great potential. Now he is the co-founder and CEO of Roteh Tours, and a driving force behind it.

We are interested in farms and countryside places that people may think of as ordinary. For someone who values a slower life and local experience, those places can be meaningful destinations. People talk a lot about farmers needing access to markets. We want to connect the people who use their products with the people who produce them.

You can visit the farm, listen to the farmer’s difficulties, exchange ideas, eat what grows there and stay with them. That is the kind of connection we want to create. It brings people closer to the lives behind the things they consume.

I would not be able to do so many things without my team. There are nine of us, including me. I am developing procedures for the work, from plant retail to landscape maintenance, so everyone can learn and we can maintain the quality we want.

Usually I wake up around six, make coffee and talk with my dad. I check the plants, water them and move them from place to place. I am still learning from them. I learn where they grow best and which location helps them thrive. Then I start the workday. I keep my calendar and to-do list on my phone, because otherwise I will lose track of things.

During the day, I check what the team is working on and support our clients. In the afternoon, I often meet people about new projects, collaborators and sponsors. I want to delegate and empower the team, but that means making time to teach, check the work and support them. The quieter work, like writing proposals and thinking through marketing, often happens at night.

The longer I operate the business, the better I understand what works. Plant retail is very competitive. As a small team, we are putting more emphasis on services such as garden design, installation and maintenance. We are selling our knowledge. Landscaping and maintenance are our main income-generating activities, with retail and cultural activities supporting the work.

With cultural events, we also work with clients and venue partners who value what we do and can contribute resources. People with fewer resources can still attend or support the vendors and artists. I am learning to bring together what can sustain the business and what allows me to pursue the things I care about.

Pteah Chas means a great deal to me. It opened the door back to my childhood dream of art. It connected me with artists, researchers and so many people I would not otherwise have known. Through it, I met people chasing their own dreams, and found new opportunities myself.

I have come to understand that the work does not always need a physical space. It is about collaboration, people, culture and creativity. We now work with venue collaborators. At the same time, I am still looking for a new home, because a physical place would allow us to contribute in other ways and host more activities.

Our current place has limitations. We focus more on private events. It cannot function as the public space we had before. I would like to find another heritage building that could become a house for creative and cultural work. It could be somewhere for people to work together, hold events, show art and share products. We want to think carefully about the right location and partner.

A community space can become a second home. People can be themselves, make friends and spend time together. It has also helped me believe in my own potential. When people have an opportunity, and someone to guide or mentor them, they can begin to see what they are capable of. As I have continued along this path, the direction has become clearer.

Phnom Penh is my homeland. I was born here, and I see a city full of potential. I have been able to witness it change. There was a time when so much attention went to money and buildings. Now, I feel it is becoming a better listener to its residents. People express their opinions and ask for things they believe are right. I think it listens better than before.

I see Phnom Penh as a starting point, a hub that can connect with talent in other places. When we understand what different places and people can offer, we can bring them together. We can work from different locations for a shared interest in art, culture and people.

The creative festival we are planning is part of that. We want to bring people and organisations together to discuss how to develop the creative industry and show the talent that is already here. There are people who have not had the spotlight yet. Some people receive many opportunities, while others deserve a chance too. We have to work together to create those opportunities, and think about how to sustain the work as a business.