"...Lady you want Tuk-tuk? Motorbike? You want massage? You buy something?" These phrases are called out to me constantly as I walk down the streets of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Siem Reap is the nearest town to the ruins of Angkor, which draws millions of tourists from all over the world and is getting busier by the year. Set in the midst of an otherwise poor country, locals understandably try to get their peice of the money Angkor brings to the area. As a result, it seems that at least one in three residents of Siem Reap is a tuk-tuk or moto driver.
Needless to say, Angkor was one of the highlights. We discovered that tickets are available for sale the evening before, so we took advantage of the bonus sunset. Despite the hordes of tourists, Angkor Wat at sunset was a sight to behold - and in my opinion, it is most beautiful in the evening light.
The next morning, we set out once again to Angkor Wat in time to see the sunrise, which was by no means a unique idea. Before dawn, a parade of cars and tuk-tuks was already streaming toward the entrance, and vendors selling coffee, water, and guidebooks were in full force. Allie and I parted ways to find our own quiet spots, and I went all the way to the far gates. By the time the sun came up, my only company was a few cows and the occasional Cambodian passing on a bicycle. But Angkor Wat is only the beginning - we spent the day exploring ruined temples with massive trees and root systems growing through the brick, ones with trecherous but rewarding climbs to the top, and others with incredibly detailed carvings and bas releifs still intact.
Siem Reap itself is an enjoyable town, with a river that makes for great morning walks and people-watching, plenty of restaurants and amenities, and a great night market where tourists flock to buy fisherman's pants, Khmer checkered scarves, and t-shirts that say "Angkor Beer" or "Same Same, But Different" (a mistranslation of "similar" that has become a catch-phrase here).
During my first few days there, I had three nearly identical encounters with locals that soon became predictable. A young Cambodian man would approach me while I was walking alone and strike up a conversation, saying they wanted to practice their English. We'd have a pleasant chat for about five minutes, after which they would mention that they teach at a local orphanage and pull out a photo album full of kids, a flier, and a list of names with various dollar amounts. They were collecting donations. I would usually give a small amount; most were grateful but one guy actually scoffed at me for not giving more! The poverty of Cambodia truly is heartbreaking and ever-present, but I always struggle with when and to whom it is appropriate to give. Though we have met many truly warm and friendly people in Siem Reap, as time went on I started to feel like it was nearly impossible to have a genuine interaction with a local without the expectation of money changing hands. Such is the ongoing dilemma that follows tourism.
Overall, Cambodia is, as I had anticipated, very intense - beautiful, sad, complex, enlightening, and thought-provoking, all at the same time. Though it is by no means the easiest place I've ever traveled, I'm grateful to have had this experience.
