From the moment the bus crossed the border from Laos to Cambodia I could tell it was a
whole new game. The guards at the border crossing had newer, cleaner, more officious
uniforms. The buses were a better standard. The snacks being sold at the
roadside stalls were brands that I recognized and contained ingredients that
made sense. Yes Cambodia was
step up from Laos
in terms of economy and development… and corruption and scams. More on that
later.
The flooding that had limited some of my movements in Laos was also causing problems in Cambodia. My
plan had been to cross the border and take the bus about 3 hours south to a town
called Kratie, where I could watch the Irawaddie dolphins and go mountain
biking. We reached the outskirts of Kratie and were told by our bus driver that
the centre of town was under water, if we wanted to stay there we had to get
off the bus and walk the rest of the way. The other option was to stay on the
bus and go all the way to Phnom Penh,
he told us we would get there at about 6 or 7. Since it was 3pm already all of
us decided to stay on the bus and push through to Phnom Penh. 6pm came whooshing by, and so did
7pm. Aaaaaaaaaahhhh the language barrier, how entertaining it makes a dull bus
ride. The driver of course meant 6 or 7 hours, so we rolled into Phnom Penh at about
11:30pm. I teamed up with two lovely French
girls, Sandra and Julie, on the bus and we negotiated our way towards a hotel.
Sandra and Julie (say it with a French accent and it is sooooooo much more fun)
ended up traveling around Cambodia
with me for the next few weeks which was fantastic!
We picked a guest house recommended by Lonely Planet and
ignored out tuk tuk drivers claims that it was a, ‘place full with many
prostitutes.’ Often times the taxi and tuk tuk drivers will talk you out of
staying where you want to so that you will instead stay at their friends guest
house and they can get a tip for taking you there. Unfortunately our tuk tuk
driver turned out to be very correct in his claims… but the room was clean, the
price was right and we had been on a bus ALL day.
We spent a few days in Phnom
Penh taking in the sights and delighting in the crazy
fast paced action of the city. Everywhere you go someone is trying to sell you
something, books, bracelets, shoes, drinks, manicures … the list goes on and
on. There is also the constant question, ‘you want tuk tuk?’ Any time of the
day or night a tuk tuk driver is there waiting for you. While in Phnom Penh we visited the
night markets, the grand palace, the riverfront (packed with restaurants and
bars) and Tuol Sleng or the S-21 Prison.
Tuol Sleng was once a high school, but in the years between
1975 and 1979 the Khmer Rouge used it as a prison and torture chamber. When the
prison was liberated in 1979 only seven prisoners remained alive. The exact
number of people who met their deaths in Tuol Sleng escapes me, but an
estimated 2,000,000 Cambodians died at the hand of their own government during
four years of genocide. Men, women, children, families. Tuol Sleng is being
preserved so that tourists, like myself, can better understand what really
happened. It is a sad and confronting place that left me feeling sick and
distressed at the suffering that went on there. Still, it is an important part of
Cambodian history and I felt a tiny bit closer to understanding this country
after seeing it, though I would not dream of suggesting I truly understand the
extent of their suffering.
After a few days in Phnom
Penh we jumped on a bus headed north to Siem Reap, and
more importantly Angkor Wat. Siem Reap was under 3 feet of water while we were there;
we literally waded down the main street of town and in and out of restaurants.
For me it was an adventure, a little bit of extra excitement and a story to
tell. For the locals it was a nightmare of lost crops, businesses shut down,
homes flooded with mud and debris and painstakingly slow transport in their
town. Still, I enjoyed splashing down Main
Street, cycling in the middle of a temporary
stream and watching the world float by from the second story balcony of the
pub.
The Frenchies and I hired a wonderful tuk tuk driver Nam to take us
to Angkor Wat on our first day. Nam
drove us around the big loop of sights and waited with a patient smile as we
clambered around the 1000 year old ruins and snapped a billion photos.
Everywhere in SE Asia is hot, but Angkor Wat
is scorching and the refreshing breeze on our faces as the tuk tuk zipped
around was a lifesaver. The second day we opted to hire bicycles and ride out
to the sight ourselves. I’m pretty bad at judging distances but I think it was
about 10km to the temples (all flat roads), 10km on the short loop we took
around the temples and 10km back at the end of the day. The weather was perfect
and we had a spectacular day cycling through the sights and snacking on
pineapple sold by every second child around the temples. All the other children
were selling postcards and magnets. The temples of Angkor Wat are breathtaking,
from the huge Angkor Wat and Bayon
Temple, to the lesser
known outlying temples. Their age, size and durability is amazing. The whole
place filled me with wonder and amazement and had me imagining scenes from The
Jungle Book and Indiana Jones. But this was better, this was real J
The unfortunate
flipside to Angkor Wat is the scammers, child beggars and prostitution that
have followed the huge number of tourists to Siem Reap. Children walk the
streets carrying babies and asking for money to feed ‘their children.’
Meanwhile parents sit across the street watching and berate the children when
they cannot collect enough cash from the tourists. Sandra and Julie, both
nurses, offered to buy some milk for a small child who approached us at
breakfast, but she was not happy with the milk they bought because she wanted
the tin of formula that costs $26. Later another backpacker explained that the
supermarket with buy it back from the children for about $15. I don’t blame the
kids, and I don’t know enough about the situation of the parents to judge them,
but there is a difference between being generous and being taken for a
sucker.
After Siem Reap I left the Frenchies for a few days to head
to Battembang, which can normally be accessed by an amazing boat ride, but I
had to take the bus because the floods had made the river too high. Battembang
itself is nothing too special, but the countryside around Battembang is
beautiful! I paid a tuk tuk driver a few dollars to take me out to the
countryside and up to the top of a local mountain where a stunning view waited
for me. This was also the sight of the Khmer Rouge ‘Killing Cave’,
a chasm in the side of the mountain where the KR used to throw people they
wanted killed. A girl, about 8 or 9 years old, took me down into the cave and
matter of factly showed me the shrine of skulls. She took care to show me the
difference between the adult skulls and the baby skulls, and then she pointed
out the opening above us where the bodies had been thrown into the cave.
Everything she told me was said in a matter of fact tone, with no emotion or
empathy. But then, all of this happened 20 years before she was born. For her
the cave is a way to make $2 from each tourists she takes down there, and to
think much more on it would probably not be worth bearing. Again I was struck
by the contradiction of this beautiful land and its ugly history.
While in Battembang I headed to a local bar to watch the AFL
Grand final. I had made enquires the day before and been assured by the bar
tender that the game would be on at 5pm the next day. I was hardly surprised to
find that the bar tender in question was nowhere to be seen and the TV was in fact
broken. Still the internet is a wonderful tool and I was soon able to hear that
the Cats had won!
Next I headed south to the coastal town of Sianhoukville. Not much was happening there
when I arrived, except rain. What I will say is that it looks like it is set up
to be a huge party town in the summer, the locals assured me that in December
it is packed and the sun is out every day, the tides are different so the beach
is much wider and there is a party on the beach every night. I was there in
September and it rained a lot, but I met some cool people, the hostel bar was
fun and they served Vegemite on toast so I was delighted.
Next up I headed down the coast to Kampot where I ate the
best ribs of my life (HUGE call I know but I’m making it), watched the sunset
over the river with a cocktail and found a wonderful day spa. For only $17 I
had a 1.5 hour full body massage and a green tea and lemongrass body scrub…
ladies I know you hate me but it was awesome. By the time I was finished it was
about 9pm and the streets were dark. Having only arrived in town that afternoon
I wasn’t too sure about walking back to my guest house alone in the dark. I
asked the owner, Jolie, if she could help me find a tuk tuk and she immediately
arranged for her husband to drive me home on his moped. Some people are just
wonderful.
My second to last stop was a little seaside town called Kep,
famed for seafood. I found a room at a beautiful guest house, where I promptly
locked myself out of my own bathroom and had to watch mortified as a tiny
Cambodian woman climbed through the roof to re-open my bathroom door for me. Is
this what Regan means when he says classic Nads??? Anyway I soon made my way to
the foreshore to watch the action at the crab market. Imagine about a hundred
little Cambodian women haggling with fishermen over the price of a billion
buckets of live, fresh, squirming seafood. Then I walked a little way down the
foreshore and picked a restaurant to sample the local delicacy. I was mid way
through a mountain of crabs and prawns, all marinated in something wonderful,
when about 12 men in Cambodian military uniforms marched into the restaurant.
They sat down, barked orders at the trembling staff and were suddenly presented
with beers and a banquet of food that made my small feat look pitiful. They
ignored me completely, but I was fascinated watching them take charge of the
restaurant. I felt sorry for the wait staff because they all looked terrified
so I left them a decent tip. Then I wandered into another restaurant where, I
won’t lie… I ordered some more prawns!
Finally I made it back to Phnom Penh
where I took a trip to the Russian Markets (to replace the shoes I lost in Laos)
and met up with the Frenchies at a riverside bar. Since it was everyone’s last
day we decided to be decadent and spoil ourselves with massages. I don’t know
how I will survive in Perth
without super cheap massages L
After some beers and some dinner the Frenchies headed to the
airport and I took a stroll along the riverfront. Since it was a Friday night
the riverfront was packed with Cambodian people enjoying some music, food,
drink and dancing with their friends and family. Random groups of people would
gather together and bust out into choreographed dances to a mix of Cambodian
music and western pop music. The groups were a mix of young and old, from
children to men and women in their 70’s and 80’s, but almost all of them were
led by teenagers who seemed very inspired by R n B dance moves. They were all
veeeeeeery dedicated and it was pretty damn entertaining to watch. I looked
around for a hat or a bucket to put a tip into… but there was none to be found.
THEY WERE JUST DOING IT FOR FUN!!!! Maybe the thought of seeing my friends in Bali in a few days had me emotional, but suddenly my eyes
were filled with tears. Here is a country with such a horrific past, where so
many people have lost so much, where poverty seems to be the general standard
of living and corruption in all levels of government is rife. And yet they have
the strength to laugh and smile and dance.
Yep, Cambodia
is mindf#@k.
