Traventure

Taken for a ride

Holding on to dear camera, I wondered what madness had convinced me that motorbike-taxis were the best way to travel in Siem Reap. It didn’t matter now as I hung on to Kontpea, while he noisily navigated through a sea of unperturbed Khmers and sunbathing cows on a bumpy dirt road. Besides, given his tiny frame, I was endangering us all in doing so- Kontpea had insisted on picking up a second passenger on the way- and for that I was secretly thankful, as it meant there was an extra person to cushion my camera’s fall in the very likely case that we did crash. Broken bones can be dealt with, but a broken SLR is certainly not my idea of a vacation.

My fourth day under the Cambodian sun and I was amazed at what a striking land this had turned out to be. The country that the Internet had described as ‘the most heavily mined in the world’ had welcomed me with open arms and a posse of Hummers parked outside swanky casinos. Paddy fields and pagodas dotted the countryside and what the Khmers lacked in lavish houses and modern-day luxuries, they made up with their kindness and a smile which transcends all language barriers, and in my case, makes you throw caution to the wind and hop on a rickety bike ride with two weather-beaten Khmers for company.

“We are here,” Kontpea announced dramatically, signalling me to get off. Like many others his age, the twenty-year old was proud of the English that he had learnt ferrying tourists around.
“This isn’t the museum,” I protested, looking around the marketplace. This was turning out just like the guidebook had said it would be. Stay off the local bikes, and stick to the hotel buses, it had warned.

“Musuem is south, here is east. Kontpea brings best drink for you,” he explained.

Stories of tourists mugged in broad daylight flooded back to me, and I cursed for having put myself in a situation that would probably add me to the list. I reluctantly followed Kontpea into a tiny shack where the children pulled up a chair for me and watched me with interest. It clearly puzzled them to see a human that did not smile.

Kontpea’s friend handed us a glass each and insisted it was good Khmer manners to let the guest drink first. I reluctantly pressed the glass to my lips, only to taste the most refreshing coconut water ever, followed by a lavish meal. Humbled by their gesture and embarrassed by my earlier doubts, I offered the lady a wad of notes for the meal. She laughed as she pressed the notes back into my palm, explaining, “You have a big nose. Very pretty, I like. Kontpea see big nose, and bring you here for us to be friends. Now go to the museum, and come back soon.”

Motorcycles are certainly the best way to travel in Siem Reap.