Despite drowning in a hellish inferno for most of its recent history, Cambodia is a surprisingly upbeat place. Everywhere, examples of the incredible spirit of the people are present. Never before have I seen such a fierce determination to survive. Never before have I seen so many people and/or goods loaded onto a single vehicle. A man weaves through traffic on a byciyle while delicatley balancing a washing machine on his back. A motorbike rides by with a female passenger holding her own I.V. above her head. This is Cambodia.
The legacy of continuous war and genocide has birthed overwhelming poverty here, but somehow the Cambodian people manage to be some of the nicest folks ive ever encountered. But because of the poverty, its no surprise that nearly everyone who approaches you in the major tourist areas is trying to sell something. These pitches range from "Sir, you need tuk tuk?, Ms. you want moto ride?, Mr. you wanna buy book?, Madame you need guest house?, my friend smoke - marijuana - opium?," or my personal favorite, the vague "Mr. buy something from me." This can be overwhelming at times, but the more you know about this place, the more tolerant you become of such bombardments.
After recovering from my nightmare of a transition from Laos, I finally felt at ease in Siem Reap, within a few miles of the temples of Ankar. My first ignorance shattering moment arrived in the form of early morning prayer, emanating from the local mosque, which happened to be located almost directly behind my guest house. My ignorance as to any kind of muslim population in cambodia was left demolished by virtue of this scene being replicated in 4 of the 5 places I visited here. My next ignorance shattering moment came in 3 days of touring the temples of Ankar. Previous to this trip, I only knew of the existence of Ankor wat, the famed temple that appears on Cambodias flag, national beer and countless paintings and t-shirts. Turns out that this is just one of many temples - the entire surrounding area is saturated with some of the most elaborate and intricately designed buildings the world has ever seen. Touring these massive ruins felt like an archaeological Disneyland for grown ups, because of the huge amounts of tourists, all being shuttled from temple to temple in tuk tuks (myself included). While wandering these complexes in nearly unbearable heat, I couldnt help but wonder about the man hours required to build them and the god complexes of those who ordered them built. Either way, you cant help but be blown away by the imagination of the human brain.
Since leaving my latest hometown of Huzhou, China, ive felt myself being pulled deeper into an increasingly narrow funnel of a tourist trail, which has deeply disturbed me. Being able to make even the slightest detour from the flock of sheep came to be of the utmost importance in the maintenence of my sanity. This detour came in Battambang, which is Cambodia's 2nd biggest city, but not a major stopping point on the tourist trail. There's still a noticeable tourist population here, but the town isnt dependent on tourist $, so as a result, its easier to feel invisible and avoid all the sales pitches of other locations. Maybe the highlight of my time spent in Cambodia, was 2 days of journeying out into Battambangs surrounding villages by motorbike.
As an introduction to this story, ill let it be known that my first, and only previous attempt to ride a motorbike nearly ended with me plunging into the tepid waters of lake Titicaca on the Peru - Bolivia border, but that's another story. So, on day one of village exploration, im handed the keys to a spiffy little 2 wheeler with a whopping 125cc! (less powert than most lawn mowers). As im strapping on my helmet, the trustworthy and maybe naive local who is lending me his prized possession asks me if i know how to drive it, to which i reply "kind of," . A nervous paranoia overcomes this mans face, and he begins to carefully explain the instructions of changing gears, using the brakes, etc. He takes me onto a backstreet for a test drive, while he sits behind me, an experience that im sure was not confidence building. After making it explicitly clear that I would be financially responsible for any damage caused ("you brake bike you pay"), he approved the rental and the real test began.
Getting out of downtown battambang proved to be an intimidating experience despite the fact that the city feels like a large village. Still, even a village can be intimidating when there are no stop signs or traffic lights, and vehicles travel on whichever side of the road is most convenient. So, after a nerve wrecking 15 minutes of learning how to change gears and use the brakes, while dodging oncoming traffic, i made it onto a straight dirt road which signaled the end of the madness. For the rest of the day I was cruising past random villages, whose populations all seemed to be comprised of 70% primary school children, who all screamed "hello" as i passed - with no sales pitches to follow. Being here was the kind of experience I came searching for on this trip - to feel transported to a simpler place and time. I imagine that life in these villages hasn't changed much in my lifetime - except for the occasional cell phone.
The rock bottom on the spectrum of human emotions came in the capital city of Phnom Penh, touring sites that have seen some terrible days. I did enjoy my stay here, but because of its history, it wasnt the most uplifting place to visit. Most depressing was a visit to S-21, a high school turned not-so-secret prison operated by the Khmer rouge, which systematically tortured and killed over 20,000 people in the late 1970's. Ive never felt such a negative energy in any place ive ever been. On a less severe but still depressing topic, my guest house, again in the shadow of a mosque, was near the shores of Boeng Kak, the largest lake in the city. When asking a guest house employee as to why there was a crane operating on a patch of sand at the south end of the lake, i learned that it's being filled in to make way for high rise buildings. So what you see will not exist one year from now.
My cambodian experience ended on a natural high in the beach town of Sihanoukville, named after the king. Stepping foot into the ocean after a 7 month absence felt like I had just completed a pilgrimage from the frozen tundra of China. For 48 hours, i kicked back under a beach umbrella, to the soundtrack of waves coming in from the gulf of Thailand. Being another tourist town, the soundtrack was interrupted by sales pitches for bbq'd seafood, bracelets, pedicures and massages. The temptation of an hour long massage on the beach proved to be too great to pass up for a mere $6. This ultimately proved to be a wise investment, but there were times of doubt, as i parted ways with my outermost later of skin due to the strong sandy hands of my masseur, who i think was pregnant. The last night in paradise began with some of the freshest seafood ive ever tasted and concluded with a natural light show unlike anything ive ever witnissed. Shortly after de-shelling my last grilled prawn, the sky behind me erupted in a silent flash of light. Over the course of the next hour, lightning illuminated a sky full of ominous and otherwise invisible cloud formations. Like most good things, this cant really be conveyed in pictures or words, but here's a video i managed to catch.
48 Hours later I was in food heaven in the chaos of Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam...
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2 comments:
Gino, wow, I just caught up with your blog, and what an experience you're having.
And you've documented it so well from a really interesting perspective. I can almost but not quite imagine what it'd be like....
Ho Chi Minh City? Dude, Saigon is the preferred nomenclature.
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