A Fast Boat to Phnom Penh

Early the next morning, our bus meandered through the stir of Siem Reap and halted at a small lake-side town. Here we met Tonle Sap Lake, the largest freshwater lake in Southeast Asia. The area was devastatingly poor. Most people lived on floating houses and setup stalls around the ferry dock to make whatever tourist revenue they could from the sale of water, fruit and sandwiches of eggs, a meager slice of ham and Laughing Cow cheese.

At 6:30 am we boarded the ferry and watched the scene around us. It was a school day and I was captivated by the children making their way to the large blue-painted structure on the banks of the lake. Those on shore walked to school clad in their uniforms of white shirts and blue pants/skirt. We saw a “school bus” of sorts – actually a small wooden canoe – which shuttled around young children from their floating homes to dry land. We witnessed a distressing incident in which a little boy missed his footing while leaping from the canoe and landed face-first in the lake. He was dripping from head-to-toe in mud and murky water. The look on his face as he stared down his sister, the canoe paddler, was precious. In frustration he threw his book-bag at her and stomped away.

As our ferry pulled away, we got a first-hand glimpse at the families who called this lake “home”. Some children came out to wave and greet us, another little boy, of maybe four, decided he’d had enough of tourists and promptly dropped his pants, mooned us and gave us the finger. Now that’s a farewell to remember. The ferry ride took five hours and during that time, a few of us decided to stay above deck to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. We were also the ones who roasted to a crisp. With the boat going as fast as it did and picking up a brisk wind, you completely forgot that the sun was hot. Needless to say, we all got a little red that day.

By noon, we had arrived at Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. As our ferry docked, we were set upon by a throng of people all waving placards and yelling for us to use their taxi, stay at their guesthouse or visit their restaurant or shop. It was absolute madness! Imagine getting crushed by people as you are trying to make your way across a narrow gangplank with a 30 lb. pack on your back and a 10 lb. pack on your front. Their persistence dogged at us and we were smothered by offers. My advice to anyone taking this route is to plan your accommodations ahead and walk as far off the dock as possible before negotiating to avoid the cluster of chaos that greeted you.

Vendors eagerly awaiting our arrival in Phnom Penh.

Around Siem Reap

Oh God…how many beers did I have last night? It was a very good thing that we didn’t have a JP wake-up call today, but we were awake by 8:30 despite touching our heads on our pillows not 6 hours earlier. It was a free day today and there were a list of things that I had on my To-Do/See list. Lucy and I wanted to check out the Artisans d’Angkor which was a facility that trained local young people to be skilled in woodworking, stone sculpturing and lacquer work. It was fascinating to see the process for how these items were created. The center enrolls some 500 students at a time and separates them into levels of apprentice and advanced, each working on different types of artwork. They are responsible for many of the souvenirs people buy at local markets, however, if you purchase items from their on-site shop, the proceeds go directly to the further development of their center.

Siem Reap also has some sprawling markets. Central Market is more modern and sells mainly food. Old Market is a hodge-podge of stalls that at the center of it all sells food stuff (fresh meat, fish and vegetables) but as it expands outwards, provides every type of household item you can imagine from motorbike parts to cheesy plastic shoes (complete with plastic feet). It is on the outer perimeter that you can purchase souvenirs of all shapes and sizes from silk wraps and bags to temple rubbings and fake plaster replicas of Angkor Wat that contain glowing red light bulbs. Every stall you venture into carries the same thing and that sparked a new local saying that we adopted – “Same Same But Different”

Totally Tacky! What better way to model plastic shoes than with plastic feet!

Before I left Seattle, a colleague told me of a local man who was commissioned to draw the Angkor complex for historical reference in case the civil war destroyed any of the ancient structures. This man translated his drawings into concrete miniatures. Somewhere in Siem Reap, these miniatures were still about and I had to find them. I found a map which marked their location, but in my walking I noticed that I was getting into more rural areas. I had clearly left the town limits. As I looked around me, I noticed the glaring disparity between rich and poor. Three-walled shanty houses were clumsily built on rotting stilts in a river that flowed right across from the glittering Grand Angkor Hotel. Children were playing in deep rain-filled potholes outside beautiful ceramic-tiled homes. I was filled with a feeling of uncertainty around how these Cambodians must feel about the economic and societal shifts in their country. They clearly see the wealth that the outside world represents, but with worn-out clothes and no shoes, do they contemplate if that wealth can ever become their own? After getting lost down some small residential roads, I found the Angkor miniatures in the backyard of a small house. The lady of the house graciously let me view them for $1. She showed me to the displays and pointed towards the raised platform where I could get a birds-eye view of the complex. It was amazing. These replicas were incredibly detailed and reflected a patient hand. A few photos later, I thanked my host and made my way back to town.

Found: Miniature of the Angkor Wat Complex

Once my mission was accomplished, I rewarded myself with some much needed relaxation. The Body Tune Spa was right across from the Soup Dragon and emanated a welcome and soothing aura. I chose a package which consisted of a one-hour foot massage with reflexology and a one-hour aromatic body massage. The best part was that these two hours of bliss would cost me a whopping $13. Can you believe it? I would spend another week here in Siem Reap in utter heaven if my schedule could afford it.

"Khmer-Rave"

Since the following day would be “free day”, meaning we wouldn’t be receiving an early wake-up call by JP, Lucy, Hannah, Jo and I decided to sample some Cambodian nightlife. JP took us to a place called the Martini Pub & Beer Garden. It actually didn’t serve martinis but it sounded fun enough. Upon entering this establishment, we were immediately accosted by five “beer ladies”. Each girl was promoting her brand of beer, obviously being rewarded by commission at the end of the night depending on how many bottles of each brand were consumed. We happily discovered that it was “Corona Night” – the Mexican import was cheaper than Tiger or local beers. We were initially suspicious thinking that these beers were probably shipped here three years ago and were still awaiting consumption. But we braved it and chose to drink something other than Tiger tonight. When our beers arrived, we weren’t sure if we made the right decision, or whether it was completely normal for Corona to glow bright green in blacklight.

The events at the Martini Pub were quite unique. It was an establishment frequented by local young people and the music there reflected their cultural struggle between the modern and traditional. When we arrived the DJ was playing slow dance music – you know, like the Cambodian equivalent of Stairway to Heaven during a high school dance. Shortly after, the music cranked up to high velocity and a thundering stream of electronica blasted out of the speakers. The lovey-dovey couples fled the floor still clutching each other while masses of young people, mainly men, flooded onto the dance floor and began gyrating and bouncing almost trance-like to the thumping beats. This went on for 20 minutes and then the music stopped again. The four of us were beginning to wonder what was next when a melodious, traditional tune came on and lured a few girls and boys to the floor. They proceeded to do a graceful two-step shuffle in a circular pattern on the parquet, moving their hands in an almost hula fashion. Soon, more people got up to join them and by mid-song, the circle dance had expanded to some 60 people. It was entrancing. So it went on for the entire evening. Every 20 minutes or so, the music would switch and the mood of the dance floor would instantly change.

We had never seen anything like this before and we sat wondering how to participate in this unique experience. I made the first move – not by actually jumping enthusiastically to the dance floor but by trying cautiously to skirt it. I had to cross the floor to reach the much needed restroom and as I tried to pick my way around dancers I was taken by the arm by a local guy, slightly drunk, very insistent. OK, I thought, why not try it out, if anything to help me better maneuver my way to the bathroom. I asked him and the boys around me how to do this traditional Cambodian dance but the other boys seemed too shy to help me. My assailant was persistent in pawing me and when he made his final move to try to kiss me, I shoved him off with enough force to knock him unsteady. Almost immediately a house bouncer grabbed him and pushed him towards the door. Wow! I got a guy kicked out of a bar…in another country!

Now you would think that after that incident I would have made a b-line for the door and went home, but instead, after my pit-stop, I made my way back to my friends and got them to join the “Khmer-Rave” when the electronic beats came back on. We had a great time and savored the distinctive atmosphere afforded to us by the Martini Pub & Beer Garden. When it was time to go home, we found many tuk-tuk drivers parked outside the bar and negotiated our way back to our hotel. The question that we were too drunk to ask was whether they were too drunk to drive. After all, they were hanging out outside the bar and most likely were inside the bar sometime during the night. Oh well, too late. Good thing traffic down the streets of Siem Reap wasn’t too harrowing that time of the morning.

Young Entrepreneurs

After lunch we ventured across the way but just as we stepped out of the restaurant were immediately trounced on by a pack of children. These kids were some of the savviest businesspeople I’ve ever encountered. They had a knack for memorizing faces, names and anything that resembled a promise. “Maybe” means “yes”. “No” means “maybe”. Actually, there isn’t a word that means “no”. Quickly, they encircled us like a pack of lions scoping out a herd of wildebeest – picking out the weak-willed victims. Kevin, a.k.a. Mr. White Shirt, had a heart of cold stone and did not waver to the throngs of children insisting he buy postcards from them.

I was accosted by a young girl named Murt who was no more than eight. She became my best friend after I bought some postcards from her (that is until I didn’t buy water from her later). Although her dress was in tatters and she had no shoes on, her English was very good and she also spoke French. Another little boy was insistent on me buying bracelets from him (3 for $1). I told him I would but I didn’t like the ones he was showing me. This prompted the little entrepreneur to run all over the market looking for bracelets of different styles and colors. I ended up following him to his sister’s shop where our deal was completed. These children live in complete poverty where the only breaks they get are the ones they make for themselves. It’s no wonder that they are so assertive. For being in such difficult life circumstances, these children are vivacious and full of enthusiasm and optimism. Their smiles greet every visitor and their laughter is beautiful.

Along with these enterprising children, I met a number of monks at the temples of Angkor. Most were shy in talking with foreigners, especially women, but some were quite eager to talk with us. We learned that not all Buddhist monks are dedicated to their vocation. In other words, some young men “sign up” to become monks much like they would enlist in the mandatory national army service. Entering the monastery is a duty they are required to fulfill for their family or for their future vocation. Service could be as long as 7 years or as short as 7 days. In fact, we heard from our guide that the son of a local wealthy man was a Buddhist monk for only 1 day. Regardless, their commitment is required in odd numbered units such as 1 year, 5 months, 7 days.

Our final stop of the day was to visit the Landmine Museum and Orphanage. A local man named AkiRa established a small, out-of-the-way place which houses an immense collection of landmines (some still live) and stories of the children victimized by these weapons. Their stories were heartbreaking – often involving them doing routine chores or playing in a field at the time of their accident. The children who were at the orphanage were incredible and demonstrated a great spirit and tenacity of character. Although without arms or legs (or both), they seemed to be oblivious to their handicap – playing soccer and laughing with their able-bodied friends. Watching them was inspiring and it was great to see that tour companies, like Imaginative Traveller, who trek through this part of the world do their part to support these local organizations.

Angkor What?

Wow! What can I say? We saw the amazing Angkor complex today. We got up at 4:30 am and arrived at the temples at 5:00 am, just before sunrise. We walked across the great bridge in total darkness. It was an eerie feeling to be there before dawn, only able to see the shadows and outlines of the massive stone structures. We found great spots across the pond to capture the five peaks of the Wat. Most head-on shots show only three. It was crazy to see the hundreds of tourists lined up to catch this amazing view. Photographers were everywhere with their tripods and super-extendo lenses.

During our tour, we went to Angkor Thom and entered the South Gate. We proceeded to the Bayon where we learned about the history of Cambodia represented on the walls and reliefs of the structure. We walked through the Royal complex and I took lots of photos of everything. It was unbearably hot and humid but every angle was spectacular and it was worth enduring the temperatures.

The many faces of Buddha that are scattered throughout the Angkor complex.

The jungle temple of Ta Promh was gorgeous. It was the location for Tomb Raider and I got a few shots that I’ll need to compare it to the movie at some point. I can’t believe I just said that I’d watch that horrible movie again.

The Pickup...

Once in Cambodia, our real adventure began. Rather than getting into a typical tour bus for our trip to Siem Reap, our group gathered our bags and crammed ourselves into a pick-up truck. Now we aren’t talking about a Dodge 250 Ram Charger or Hummer H2. No, this was a plain old Nissan pick-up truck. We watched stunned as some 20 Cambodians climbed into a similar vehicle and whiz off down the street. With such local expertise, 10 people (plus driver) and all our bags were an easy task. We were carefully arranged into the cab and bed of the pick-up truck. Diana, Hannah and Allison squeezed themselves into the cab of the truck while the rest of us perched on our luggage and hung on for dear life. We looked like a motley pile of bodies and bags. It was no wonder that all the people we saw along the way gave us inquisitive looks that said “crazy foreigners”.



We set off 150 km for Siem Reap. This was a four hour journey that included 70 km of dirt road. The good thing was that with the driver going at a consistent 45 km/h clip, only stopping for the really big potholes, we didn’t feel the oppressive heat. The bad thing was that after the first 10 km, our butts were so numb we couldn’t feel a thing through the remaining 140 km of the trip. Maybe that was a good thing… The jarring ride vibrated every part of our bodies and despite our attempts to maneuver ourselves onto the most comfortable piece of luggage, there simply was no “happy place”. Upon journey’s end, everyone in the bed of the truck was deadened of feeling and covered by the red ochre dust of Cambodian roads.

Despite the grueling ride, it was an amazing experience and one that I’ll never forget. I would highly recommend it to anyone with the stamina to endure rustic local travel and slight discomfort. Everywhere we looked we saw a vast countryside of rice paddies and poverty. We dodged cows, bicycles going to market, and motorbikes. We waved at delightful children playing in roadside ponds. Everywhere we saw friendly smiles and enthusiastic waves, even when they were bilking you for $1 (one dahlaaar). At one instance we had to take a detour around a broken bridge. As we meandered through a local road, we were stopped by a large piece of wood deliberately obstructing the road. It was placed there by some old people who would only remove it if you have them money (a donation, if you will). Now that was an example of capitalism at its finest!

My back paid dearly after this day, but I don’t think any other method of transport would have afforded us quite the same experience. Much of what we saw would be lost to anyone who simply flew the 1½ hours from Bangkok to Siem Reap. I was happy to finally wash the Cambodian dust from me and that night, I went to bed dreaming of soft pillows and feather beds…

Poipet: The Thailand/Cambodia Border

After a 2½ hour ride from Bangkok, we reached Poipet, the Thai border village. Everywhere we looked there were interesting modes of transportation, from tuk-tuks to jumbo wooden wheelbarrows. There was also a large population of tour buses and motorbikes. We saw a market selling fruits and local concoctions and decided to sample some local cuisine. Thinking that a local tuna sandwich would be an interesting Asian treat, we ordered the dish curious about what we’d receive. Much to our chagrin, the sandwich consisted of two pieces of white Wonder bread, a thick coating of butter and about a tablespoon of canned tuna, not even a heaping tablespoon, dammit! These ingredients were then carefully placed in an electric sandwich-grilling machine – à la George Foreman grill! What a disappointment. I can’t believe this was my first real meal in Asia! I guess it was a good thing I packed those Luna bars and Oberto beef jerky.

Once everyone’s paperwork was done and we finished our “lunch”, our band of travelers picked up our backpacks and headed for the border crossing. We first exited Thailand and walked 100m through no-man’s land into the Kingdom of Cambodia. It was a relatively painless process with the most difficult thing being the stifling heat which pounded us and increased the weight of our packs exponentially.


Check out the wheelbarrows crossing the border.

Lucy

We arrived in Bangkok last night around 11:30pm. It was then that I woke Lucy Gibson up of her light sleep to answer my knock. Lucy was to be my roommate for this, the first leg of our trip. Although she was groggy and I was disoriented and a tad jet-lagged, we introduced each other and gave each other the highlights of our personal biographies and goals for why we’re on this trip. It was kind of a strange, hazy version of speed-dating. I learned that Lucy was a veterinarian from just north of Liverpool, England. What luck! Of all the people in the world I get to room with, I get an animal lover. She had been saving for 5 years for this trip, recently quit her job, and would begin a trip around the world over the next year. Instantly she made my three week vacation seem paltry. Feeling a hint of inadequacy when my trip has not yet begun, I went to sleep thinking of ways to extend my trip.

Over the next three weeks I discovered that Lucy and I were kindred spirits. Although we had only just met, it seemed like we knew each other forever. She was a great travel-buddy and had grown to become a really great friend. After leaving Lucy in Hoi An some two weeks after we first met, we have exchanged constant emails. She has updated me on the affectionate Italian, the travel snob, the gastronomical nightmares of Sapa, and her most recent adventures through Laos. She has a great sense of adventure and I wish her the best of journeys. "Lou" and I are making plans to meet again in the spring as we continue our search for “cute boys” in the gorgeous country known as New Zealand...

Our guide, JP, and my new pal, Lucy.

Ready to Go

Well, the journey has begun. My bags are checked all the way to Bangkok and there’s no turning back now. Not that I would turn back, but there’s always that fleeting moment just before you leave where you think about everything you’re forgetting to do or bring, and the things that would stop you from getting on the plane. But as I said, it’s too late now. OK, maybe not too late. After all, I could hear my name over the loud-speaker announcing that my dogs have escaped and are running wild through the neighborhood, or that my house has been destroyed by a very isolated tornado. I guess that’s why I have my earphones and listening to Rage Against the Machine.

I’ve sat in the North Satellite terminal many times, but this morning it’s different. As I look around at this mass of transient bodies, a sense of liberty fills me. Perhaps it’s the feeling of victory I feel for packing three weeks worth of stuff in one backpack – no that’s not it, although that small accomplishment did make me feel like a packing goddess. But seriously, I think it’s the idea that I’m about to embark on this incredible adventure…and they aren’t. They’re preparing for points “known” like Minneapolis and Denver. I’m journeying to points quite “unknown”.

Some people think I’m crazy – I mean I’m heading to a third world country which was recently stricken by civil war, a Communist country who’s mere name strikes discord in the hearts and minds of many Americans…and it’s monsoon season for crying out loud! What the hell am I thinking? But regardless of these quiet warnings, I’m exhilarated by the prospects of venturing through Cambodia and Vietnam. So, as I swallow another gulp of the last Starbucks latte I’ll have in the next three weeks, I thumb though my Lonely Planet and contemplate what might be in-store for me in Southeast Asia.