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Sensory overload

Saturday, October 11th, 2008

Phnom Penh is intense in every sense of the word! The traffic, for starters, is insane. Crossing the street in this city makes crossing a street in Bangkok look like child’s play – there are thousands upon thousands of bicycles, motorbikes, trucks, cars, vendors, schoolkids all honking and coming at you from every angle, heading in whichever direction is most convenient at the moment. Roads are (mostly) paved and there are always sidewalks, but 98% of them are rendered useless for pedestrians since they seem to function as storage areas for all sorts of random junk.The only redeeming factor is that they (sometimes) drive on the right side of the road.

There is no order in this chaos (at least, not that I can see), but despite this we decided to rent bicycles rather than hiring a tuktuk for our visit to Choeung Ek, otherwise known as the Killing Fields. The area is located about 15km outside the city, but of course bicycles are rented within the city, leaving us no choice but to jump into the madness! We got started a bit later than I’d hoped for, and things were in full swing.

I was a bit tense, to say the least, but I’ve been in Asia long enough to know how traffic functions: just watch the person in front of you and make your decisions based on them. The person behind you will do the same. Traffic lights are irrelevant – whenever enough vehicles amass, it is go time. The stupidest thing you can do is to make any sort of solitary decision or action – follow the crowd! It’s also important to remember that people don’t stop or yield when turning onto roads, they just go and weave as needed. The same applies for large trucks with boards/metal poles sticking out of the back- if they need to reverse onto a major road, they do. They are big, you are small, and they are in front of you, so adjust accordingly!

In any case, we somehow made it to Choeung Ek in one piece, then spent a sobering hour or so walking around the former mass grave site of the Khmer Rouge. There is a huge memorial, a glass stupa filled with hundreds upon hundreds of skulls, most with axe and bludgeon wounds. We saw the mass graves, some of which had been full of nothing but headless corpses, others nothing but naked women. There was a tree, surrounded by broken bones, that was used for beating babies and children against, along with other horrendeous remnants of the genocide. It was definitely an intense place to visit.

The ride back was even hotter and even crazier, as traffic was at it’s peak and schoolkids were heading home for lunch – by this point I was feeling much more comfortable (just don’t think, don’t look, somehow it works), but after we saw two accidents within 10 seconds of each other I was more than happy to hand the bicycle back to its owner. I’ve seen the state of health clinics in Cambodia and I will (finally) be purchasing that health insurance tonight…

Today we visited the Toul Sleng Museum, or S-21 as it was officially called. This is the former high school that the Khmer Rouge used as a prison and torture facility in the late 1970s, and was an absolutely chilling place to visit. There are three big block buildings, obviously a school. The first building was primarily used for torture and interrogation. Each former classroom has a single iron bed with a chain on it, and they’ve put big photos in each room of the occupant, starved, bloody, tortured and chained to the bed. There is still blood on many of the walls.

The second building housed individuals cells which the soldiers sloppily constructed from wood and metal, partitioning off the classrooms. The cells are tiny boxes with a small window in the door – many still holds chains and other torture devices. It gave me chills to be in there.

Probably the most piercing part of the whole place is where they have displayed a photo of every person that came through the prison; the Khmer Rouge made sure to document each prisoner as they came in, and as they were dying. Because this is such a recent tragedy, there are a large number of good-quality photos to portray the horror. Of the more than 9,000 people that came into S-21, many of them small children, only 4 survived. The museum has displayed signs telling people not to talk, but there’s no reason for them, as I was more or less speechless the entire time.

Overall, we aren’t too impressed with Phnom Penh (we haven’t recovered enough from Bangkok yet!), but it is definitely worth the stop for these two sites. You can read all the books you want and watch all the movies that you can get your hands on, but nothing hits you the way being here does. We’ll hopefully be able to leave on Monday (we’re waiting on our Vietnam visas to be ready) and head northeast,to the the largely undeveloped and much less intense Ratanakiri province.

Rough roads, rough realities…

Thursday, October 9th, 2008

We made a stopover in Battambang, a small town full of French architecture and bakeries that is actually the second largest city in Cambodia. To get there, we had a five hour bus ride that included several hours backtracking on that same crater-covered road that we’d taken from the border. This road, we quickly found out, is far more painful in a bus!

The day was dry, so instead of heart-pounding slides and near-misses in the mud (Mom, Dad, I may have skipped that small detail before), it was a sandpit of a road with the dust hanging heavy in the air and seeping into every miniscule crack on the rickety old bus. The potholes are atrocious and you felt everything. I suddenly understood why every Cambodian wears a krama (checked scarf wrapped around your mouth/nose) and why the bus driver handed out plastic bags before the trip (someone is bound to get sick). Luckily, no Asian can go more than two hours without a snack and there were plentiful rest stops.

 When our bus pulled into Battambang, I made the mistake of having the curtain open, which meant that we, the only two white faces on the bus, were immediately zeroed in on and had a mob of motobike drivers waving guesthouse flyers at us before we could ever get off the thing. We’ve mastered the art of pretending they aren’t there until we’ve got our bags and are ready to negotiate, and we eventually boarded the backs of two motobikes. The drivers said they’d take us free of charge to the Chaaya Hotel and if we didn’t like it, we were free to go elsewhere. The place was good, the room clean and cheap, so we agreed. The deal of course, is that then the driver tries to get you to hire him for whatever sights you want to see. We were going to need a driver to go to the mountain and he offered a full day for $8 apiece – we liked him, his price was right and we gave him a job.

The next morning Odom and his friend picked us up at 8 and we headed out of town on the backs of two motobikes. The road of course was dirt and covered in potholes/trenches from being torn up during the wet season, so it was quite a ride! I normally hesitate with taking guides, because I like to pace myself, but it was so nice to have someone to point out things I never would have noticed or thought to ask about – he was incredibly informative and a really genuine guy (also an expert pothole-dodger).

He gave us his story once we’d gotten to the mountain. He’s 39 and thus was 10 years old at the height of the Khmer Rouge years. His father was killed by them and he was separated from his mother and forced to work, starving, in the rice paddies where he saw his share of death. He eventually was one of the lucky ones who escaped to the Thai border in 1979 and lived in a refugee camp for 13 years.

He spent 8 of those years working as a medic, where he learned to speak Thai, English and French. Despite speaking four languages and having medical experience, he is unable to find real work in Cambodia and has to remain a motodriver in order to pay to send his three kids to school. He says he’d leave if he could, as the government is just far too corrupt and he told me how he thinks Thais are very lucky – their government may be corrupt as well, but at least they are able to speak out against it. Needless to say, he was a great guide to have, he knew his stuff.

On the hike up the mountain, we stopped in two caves that were used by the Khmer Rouge during the genocide. They would line people around a hole in the top of the cave and bludgeon people to death (to save expensive bullets), leaving the bodies down below. Piles of bones are still there, the skulls all with massive cracks – it was incredibly chilling to see.

 After climbing to the top of the mountain and back down, we had a long, scenic ride on a narrow dirt track through the countryside, which I am still so fascinated with. Odom explained a lot about rice farming and village life and all sorts of other things – this is truly what it means to barely scrape by.

We finished at the ‘bamboo train,” a wooden platform, basically a bed, set on wheels and balanced on a warped, twisted little train track. These are used to transport goods and were historically propelled by bamboo sticks, used as boat oars. Today they have lawn mower engines attached, and the ride is faster if not much more painful! The tracks aren’t straight by any means, and you feel EVERY kink in the path!

 If you come head to head with another platform (which we did), whoever has the lightest load has to unload their cart, remove it from the tracks and let the other pass. Luckily we had two motobikes, but I felt bad watching a huge group of village people unloading their sacks of rice and children to make room for us. That’s how it works though, it was a great ride! We eventually got off and the guys drove us the remaining 15 minutes back into town.

We had a quiet evening after that, as Battambang more or less shuts down after dark, but I was so glad that we’d stopped for a day. I learned more from Odom than from all of the books I’ve read, and I know that the meager supply of tourists leaves him hurting – hopefully we helped him as much as he helped us!

 Today we bussed it to Phnom Penh, where I sort of feel like I’m in Bangkok (minus the great food), but sort of don’t. Tomorrow we’re riding bikes to the Killing Fields and the S-21 museum, so it’ll be a few more days of sobering, intense history lessons. Stay tuned…

mai pen rai, mai pen rai

Wednesday, September 24th, 2008
One of the most important things to realize in Thailand is that impatience and frustration will get you nowhere! Thais are unfazed when it comes to traffic - they will sit at a light for 30 minutes, repeatedly cut off by ... [Continue reading this entry]

Escalation!

Monday, September 1st, 2008
Friday protests For anyone who is interested, I thought that I would write a short update on the situation here in Bangkok... The weekend was a bit of an uncertain one; while there were hints that ... [Continue reading this entry]

Transportation, part 2 (through 11)

Monday, August 18th, 2008
The Mae Klong railway Let's revisit the transportation topic for a bit, shall we? This past weekend Gabe and I decided to check out the floating markets. Whereas this used to ... [Continue reading this entry]

The journey and (eventually) the destination

Friday, August 8th, 2008
One thing that I’ve learned in Thailand is that no matter how long it may take or how haphazard the method may be, someone will always make sure that you get where you’re going! A good example of this happened several ... [Continue reading this entry]

Scammed! Another contribution from GBG

Monday, July 28th, 2008
Just when you think you are adapting to the Thai lifestyle, avoiding the tourist priced eateries, learning useful phrases, knowing the roads, etc. YOU GET SCAMMED! I write this laughing because nearly all experienced backpackers think they are smarter than ... [Continue reading this entry]

Being good at life! (a rediscovery of Thailand)

Wednesday, July 16th, 2008
As you've probably guessed by my lack of writing, Gabe has arrived and I've been preoccupied with finally having a partner in crime! I managed to find my way to the airport late Tuesday night and was there in plenty ... [Continue reading this entry]