BootsnAll Travel Network



Cambodia, Cont, etc, etc

[NOTE: Originaly posted August 21st, 2006]

“What’s happened has happened. What’s coming is already on its way with a role for me to play. And I don’t understand. I’ll never understand. But I’ll try to understand. There’s nothing else I can do.”
-Fiona Apple, Red Red Red

I only spent 2 nights in Phnom Phen because I had enjoyed Siem Reap so much…well, parts of it. The same problems that haunt Siem Reap are present in Phnom Phen, of course; devastating poverty, and the all too familiar sights of people (most of them children) asking for money and missing limbs due to landmines. It’s really hard to see for obvious reasons, but also just the sheer quantity of people affected is overwhelming. You simply can’t help everyone. It’s very hard. My driver Smithy told me however, that he works at an orphanage who takes in and educated these kids, and a lot of them refuse the help and would rather beg in the streets. So, yeah. Tough nonetheless.

Siem Reap has other, more pleasant attributes, among them a huge variety of Indian restaurants upon which I gorged myself daily. Also the city center is a nice place to hang around for a few days, small, but a lot of cool places to sit and read a book, plus a small market in case you ever wanted to pick up that pig’s head you’ve been craving. Phnom Phen seems to have a vivacious aura as well, but it’s much more spread out, and really, that’s not the reason you go to Phnom Phen. You can’t go there without being cognizant of all the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge. It affected all of Cambodia of course, but it has had its most lasting affect at the country’s capitol, near both the Killing Fields and S-21, basically just a torture complex from which only 6 people got out alive. I took the tour. Quite a bit to take in on one day, but I’ trying to chalk it up to experience. Really, it just made me tremendously sad, and I almost felt guilty visiting; I know I can never really understand what happened there or how even one person could commit such horrific acts against another, so I feel like when I do ‘the tourist thing’ it’s almost exploitative. But tourism is also a big industry here and people depend on for their livelihood, so it’s something of a double-edged sword. After my brief time in Phnom Phen, I took the bus back to Bangkok, where I met my friend from Manhattan, Emily for lunch. Small little bitty world.

My boyfriend Mike came to Thailand all of last week. He flew in through London on the second day of all the hubbub over there and was one of the unfortunate thousands whose luggage was lost somewhere in route to its final destination. And thanks to the stringent regulations on carry-ons, all he had with him on arrival was his wallet and the clothes on his back. Luckily, clothes are cheap here in Bangkok, and we visited the big weekend market on the first day, but it was still a hassle trying to call and locate the bags, being led around in circles by the airlines, and finally just having to leave Bangkok without them. We went down to the beach at Koh Samet for the first couple of days where we rented a four-wheeler to traverse the ridiculously rocky and holey “roads” on the island. The first night, we got stuck in the rain on the 4-wheeler, but it ended up being a muddy blast of abandon once we gave into the fact that w were going to get more than a little soaked. Next day, we moved to a more populated section of the island, but ultimately decided to leave Koh Samet to see more of Thailand. We ventured to Pattaya, which was something of an international hub for dirty old men looking for Thai girlfriends, but spending just one day there and seeing Walking Street at night was more than a little interesting. Plus, we saw a poster advertising a multi0day trip to the River Kwai. We decided it sounded like a good idea, so we signed up. It was great. It included a hike up a 7 tier crystal blue waterfall, elephant trekking, rafting down the river (a bit overrated), and rips to the floating market and a woodcrafts shop. Not a bad gig. The waterfall was probably my favorite of the bunch. It was in a national park, so it had been kept quite pristine; the weather was nice, and the water as perfect for swimming…even if you didn’t know to bring your bathing suit. There were fish in the shallow waters that sucked at your feet if you stood still. It tickled.

After that, we headed back to Bangkok, where we checked one last time for Mike’s luggage. He had called the airline and asked them just to send it back to New York, but of course, that would be too easy. Instead they forwarded it to the hotel we stayed at the first night in Bangkok. It was all there, having arrived a day or two after we left…but it was there. Then, only hours later, he had to say goodbye to it again as he checked it once more to go back. Luckily, they’ve relaxed the rules about carry-on luggage a bit, so now you are once again allowed to bring books. Whoopee.

And now I’m back on my own in Bangkok. I was supposed to get on a train today up to Chiang Mai, but I missed it because I was getting my hair done. I’ve put in long, right, multi-colored, braided extensions…sort of a hair ‘a la blended clown. Fountain of Rainbow Brite springing eternal from the top of my head. Rapunzel does the Gay Pride parade. Leprechauns will be disappointed when they get to the end only to find my face. You get the idea. I rather like it. I’ll put up some pictures. And a note on the pictures: Web shots hates me, and therefore throws any new picture’s I put up into any album it chooses, so don’t be surprised if they’re a bit out of order here and there.

Today, I missed the train by mere minutes, so it was suggested that I hop on a motorbike to try to catch it at the next station. So, though it is raining, I try, and find myself weaving in and out of traffic too fast and too close, large bag balanced on my back, colored wisps of hair flying about under my green helmet, and decide it just isn’t worth it. So I ask the guy to pull over…and he nods, but does not stop. So I sit quite uncomfortably on the edge of his seat until he stops where he likes—at the train station. The train has already left, but I’m so shaken I don’t really care. He doesn’t understand why I refuse to get back on the bike to take me back into the city. As I walk away to hail a cab, he calls lower ad lower prices after me, thinking I’m trying to haggle with him. He could have said ‘free’, he could have offered to pay me and I’d have turned him down. Tomorrow, I’ll take the bus, and I’ll leave much earlier. I want to find a temple that will take me for another meditation retreat.



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