Mark’s Vagabonding Blog

The seemingly negative tone of my last few posts: the boat ride from hell; asshole, scamming touts; border nazis; and even the sadness of Pattaya, have prompted my sister to ask, “Are you having fun? Are you enjoying it?” The answer to that is a resounding YES.

I suppose if similar experiences happened to me in NJ or Florida (places I’ve lived), then they would be the bane of my soul, and I would hate life. But here it’s all a part of my world travelling adventure, and my growth. It’s odd, but if I were still in Florida and a friend said to me, “Hey Mark, we’re taking my boat out for a cruise into the Gulf of Mexico, do you want to come?” I’m pretty sure I would decline the invitation. “No thanks, I get seasick in the bathtub,” I would say. But here, sometimes, my inner critique is not able to escape and hold me back like it’s done numerous times in my life back home. And there was a bus going to Sihanoukville I could have taken, but I stepped outside of myself, and took the adventerous (for me) route instead.

That’s not to say I’m going wild here, because I’m not. There are still many fears I’ve yet to overcome, but I have broken through on some. And I am extremely glad I did this trip. Yes, I loathe touts (and I have to deal with them almost every day), and I have seen awful things (the rampant prostitution in Pattaya, the inescapable poverty, …etc), I’ve been subjected to scams, I might have been ripped off for $500, I’ve been sick and have gone to the hospital . . . but for the first time in my mostly mundane life, I feel ALIVE. And I’ll throw in what’s become my catch phrase, even though I haven’t used it in a while, At least I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.

However, I must say that the novelty of being here has worn off. If you’ve seen one market in SE Asia, you’ve seen them all. If you’ve seen one dilapidated wooden shack in the countryside, with naked children running around, you’ve seen them all. If you’ve seen one respectable looking gentleman pissing on the wall of a building in broad daylight in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, you’ve seen them all. There is so much going on here that you would never see in America, or any developed country. So many very intersting sights, smells, sounds, and tastes, that not 5 minutes goes by without witnessing something different. But I’ve reached a point where nothing surprizes or shocks me any more.

When I first saw a family of 4 (father, mother, toddler and infant) speeding around in traffic on one mortorcycle, and not one of them was wearing a helmet, I was blown away. How can this be? I thought. Don’t these people care about their children? But now I see it 100 times a day in Cambodia, and I’m not phased at all anymore. I even ride on the motorcycles (taxis) and never wear a helmet. At first, especially in Bangkok, it was quite harrowing, but now I don’t even think about it. I just think about what I’m going to do once I get to my destination, or whatever. Of course these people care about their children. Perhaps American’s are overly cautious, I don’t know. It’s just a different way of life. I see vans packed so tight with people they can’t squeeze one more skinny body inside, so they stick about 5-10 more people on top of the luggage that’s on the roof, while the van travels at 60 MPH on a bumpy dirt road. Are American’s too cautious? I see 11-12 year-old children driving mortorcycles in traffic, often with 2 passengers on the bike, and, of course, none of them are wearing helmets. Are American’s too cautious?

Are American’s overly cautious? Or does this guy not care about those kids’ safety? You make the call.

Imagine showing up in Cambodia after being in America all your life, and this is the first thing you see. Look closely.

I also see beautiful and wonderful things. The landscapes here are phenomenal: rolling hills; long green stretches of rice fields; majestic green mountains; the island beaches of Thailand. And the people who don’t exist to take your money are the nicest, most honest, friendly and happy people on earth. The young children of Cambodia are genuinely thrilled to see you. “Hello!” they yell with a wave and a big smile as they ride by on their ubiquitous bicycles.

It’s not all frightening and frustrating. Beautiful Khmer children pose for a picture on the road to Ratanakiri.

I’ve also been enjoying Cambodian (Khmer) food. It’s less spicy here than in Thailand. It’s a little more expensive in Cambodia, but they also give you more. So moneywise it may be the same. But I have only eaten the food in the guesthouses and restaurants that cater to foreigners in Cambodia. I haven’t eaten from the street venders or food stalls here yet. But I do mostly order the Asian food, so hopefully I’m getting some authentic Khmer cousine. I’ve eaten where the locals eat in Thailand with June.

Anyway, yes I am very glad I’m doing this, and I would recommend it to anyone. Quit your job and go! I do realize it will probably have to end, unless I can figure out a way to extend it indefinitely. I was hoping my stocks would help, but I think I made some bad decisions, they’re all heading south big time. But whatever happens, this is one regret I will never have, and I’ve had many. And because the novelty is waring off I will have to start doing some more different things, and exploring beyond the beaten path . . .

. . . . I ended up staying at the Phumin Hotel that night. It looked nicer than Otto’s, and after what I had just been through, and what I knew was coming next, I needed nicer. Although the Phumin Hotel was a lot more expensive than Otto’s, it still had cold showers. For 500 baht I expected a warm shower.

I will never ever get used to these cold showers. And this is what they call the cold season here. Actually it’s a joke. Instead of 93 degrees F, it’s only 83 degrees F. They don’t know what cold is here. But the evenings are a bit cooler. And I’ve noticed that the showers seem colder too. Sometimes I can’t even complete my shower, it’s that bad. I’ll just wet my feet and ankles, and that’s as far as I can go. Who cares if I stink? But my feet are always fresh.

I still wasn’t done with Otto’s though. They say that is the best place to buy the boat ticket for some reason. So I woke up early (Oh, I did do something in Chanthaburi, Thailand. I bought a watch. It was crazy using my camera to check the time all the time. And occasionally I need to wake up early, so I needed an alarm as well. So I bought a cheap $9.00 watch.) the next morning and walked to Otto’s.

The boat leaves Koh Kong for Sihanoukville at 8:00am every morning. The ride takes 4 hours. This time I’m definitely taking my Dramamine, a full dose. But I wanted to take it an hour before departure, like the lable says. Everything was on schedule, it was around 7:00am and I was at Otto’s to buy my ticket. Then I would go back and take the Dramamine, and get something to eat. Then the girl at Otto’s offered me free coffee or tea (I suppose that’s why Otto’s is the best place to buy the ticket). Normally I don’t drink either, but for some reason I couldn’t refuse the offer. I felt like it would be disrespectful if I did. I chose the tea.

Yeeeeowwww, that’s hot!! That tea was hotter than fried lava. It took me over 20 minutes to drink the molten tea. Now I was late for my Dramamine, and I might not have time to get anything to eat. It never occured to me to eat at Otto’s while I was there. I went back to the hotel to take the Dramamine and check out. I didn’t have time for breakfast, so I just went to the boat dock. All I had was bottle of water. There was a lady selling various kinds of food (cooked and otherwise), and motion sickness drugs, but I didn’t trust her. I’d eat in Sihanoukville. There were also guys selling other kinds of drugs at the dock too, and I don’t mean Robitussin.

I don’t know much about boats, but they say this boat was only made for travel on rivers and lakes. We were about to head out into the open seas. The boat was very long and narrow. The inside looked like the interior of a plane. There were 3 seats on either side of the aisle, and about 30 rows. I took a window seat in the second row, on the right. Not that you can really see out of the window, it’s quite a bit higher than you as you sit. All you can see is the sky, unless you get up and look. You actually have a better view out the window opposite you, while seated. You also have the option of riding on the roof of the boat, if you want too. But the only thing keeping you there is a railing pole about 2 feet off the roof. So unless you are very fat, you can roll right underneath, or fly over it, if it starts to get rough. And if you travel up there you better be covered from head to toe, or you will get the meanest sunburn of your life.

As I sat in the boat waiting for it to depart, the Dramamine hadn’t kicked in yet. I felt a little queazy already from the slight rocking. A Cambodian gentleman took the aisle seat next me, leaving the seat between us empty. His briefcase went on the empty seat, and my backpack on top of his briefcase. Shortly after, the engines roared and we headed out into the Gulf Of Thailand.

The boat moving forward made me feel a little better. Then suddenly, a loud sound came from just above my head. I looked up. Oh shit, I’m sitting right underneath a speaker. Whenever you travel long distance in Southeast Asia, they love to play loud music through bad speakers. Or, if there is a TV on board, karaoke videos, or bad American movies dubbed in the language of the country you are in. And I mean bad movies. One movie I saw on the bus from Lampang to Bangkok was an action movie starring Mick Fleetwood, the psycho drummer for Fleetwood Mac. How’s that for bad? It’s usually some kind of action flick. Now I know why those movies get made, there’s an audience for them over here in large travelling vessles.

They started out this trip with karaoke videos. It’s not really music without vocals, with someone on the boat singing. They are pretty much cheezy, sappy, music videos with the lyrics scrolling on the bottom of the screen. I think I would rather see these Cambodians singing badly, at least it would be entertaing. The engines of the boat were deafening to begin with, so they had to crank the volume to hear the videos over the screaming engines. I seriously considered putting in my earplugs. But, again, I thought it might be disrespectful. Or more likely, I would look like an idiot with these big green things sticking out of my ears. So I endured the cacophony.

About 15-20 minutes after we embarked, I felt the Dramamine kick in. All the queazines was gone. This is going to be a good trip. I wish I could see more than the sky out the window.

When the karaoke video was mercifully over, it was time for Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker in Rush Hour 6. What’s also funny about these movies, is that they are dubbed in whatever language (It’s the same guy doing every voice), but they also, occasionally, have english subtitles. I mean occasionally within the movie, not that some have english subtitles and some don’t. So every once in a while on the bottom of the screen it will say something like, “I thought you were with him.” or “Get Sullivan on the phone and tell him I’m pissed!”

Another very funny thing involving American movies here, is that often guesthouses and hostels will have a common room with a TV and a good selection of movies on DVD or VCD (video CD, lower quality video on a CD instead of a DVD) for you to watch. They are usually good movies, but they are copies, and although they are in english, unlike the dubbed ones I mentioned previously, some genius decided that they needed english subtitles, that you cannot remove. And whoever is writing these subtitles does not understand english very well, and is just guessing what is being said. The results are often quite hilarious. Here are two examples from Etermal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind. There are much funnier ones than this, but I wanted to use real examples, and this is all I wrote down so far:

Real spoken line: “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
Subtitle: “I’m sorry I’m yelling you.”

Real spoken line: “It was nice meeting you, and all” (spoken fast)
Subtitle: “Just leave me alone.”

Sometimes the subtitler really has no idea what was said, and they’ll let a series of lines go by with no subtitles at all. But mostly they just make no sense at all. It makes for an interesting movie experience, but I don’t know why they even bother with the subtitles at all. Man this boat is moving fast.

About 2 hours into the trip, the sea started to get a little more rough. The boat rocked more than it did earlier, but I still felt fine. Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker saved the world again, so it was back to Cambodian karaoke. Suddenly the boat started to slow down considerably.

I stood up and looked out the window to see what was going on. Dozens of people were standing on the dock of a port, presumably waiting to board this boat. I was right. Only a handful of people got off the boat here, while the dozen’s took their place. Almost everyone was on board and the seat next to me was still empty. How great would that be if it remained that way?

Damn! The last guy to board took our empty seat. Now I had to ride the next 2 hours with my backpack on my lap. And this new guy didn’t look very good. He sat with his fingers pressing against his temples, and a towel around his mouth. Then he slumped forward with the towel still around his face. He was obviously sick. And he smelled like . . . like . . . old garlic.

So everyone was on board and we continued our journey. We made our way back to the middle of the ocean where the waves were getting rough again. The boat rocked side to side considerably. The Dramamine was being put to the test. I still felt okay, but we had about an hour and 45 minutes to go, and I had to pee very badly from the bottle of water I drank. The kid put a concert video in the machine.

Oh boy, we’re really rocking now, and I don’t mean the concert. The boat continued to move swiftly toward Sihanoukville, and the waves were now crashing on the windows. Some of the passengers got up to look out the windows. So did I. The wind must have been whipping, because the waves were menacing now. They were toying with this ship.

Holy shit! The boat was now jumping the waves. We must have turned in a different direction, or the wind must have shifted. This boat that was only meant for river and lake travel, was going airborn out on the open seas!

I started to get nervous. And the guy next to me was really starting to look bad. If he fucking pukes on me . . . Two-hundred people on this boat and he has to sit next to me.

The sea was relentlessly battering the boat now, and we were jumping waves at 100 MPH, maybe 150, I don’t know. But I do know if I didn’t take that Dramamine I would be spewing food I ate in 1989. And now the bright, late morning, sun was shining directly through the window and onto me. It was very hot, and very uncomfortable. The only way to escape it was to lean in toward sick guy. It was an impossible decision: Bake in the sweltering sun, or share a seat with old-garlic smelling sick guy? I couldn’t take it any longer, I leaned into sick guy.

The intensity of the waves grew even stronger, as if they were trying to teach this boat a lesson. “You shouldn’t be out here in the open waters you lake boat,” they were saying. The boat rocked so far I swore I could see fish underwater through the window opposite me.

Whoa!! Airborn!! We’re gonna die!!!!

The concert video started to get stuck, then skip continuously . . . get stuck, then skip continuously . . . get stuck then skip continuously . . . The passengers were getting edgy, some screaching and yelping with every jump. A girl in the seats opposite me leaned forward, very low, and vomited into a bag. Two minutes later she did it again. Man do I have to pee.

So far sick guy was hanging there. And miraculously, so was I. This Dramamine truly is a miracle drug, I thought . . . so far.

We continued jumping waves at great speeds, becoming airborn, while simultaneously rocking so far both ways I was certain we would capsize. This went on for the next 30 minutes. If I die does my insurance cover this? I think it does. I kept checking my new watch to see how much longer until I was on land, or to try and guess my precise time of death.

Suddenly the rocking subsided a bit, and we stopped jumping the waves. We must be getting close to port. I looked out the window and I saw industry. Land! The industrial port of Sihanoukville. The boat docked safely. I jumped over the seat in front of me got the hell out of that death trap. But I still had another obstacle to face.

There was a sea of touts waiting for me. Maybe if I ran through them yelling, “Toilet! Toilet! Toilet!” they would leave me alone. So I did it. But it didn’t work. One guy latched onto me and directed me toward the toilet in a restaurant. But these are not restaurants, the way you normally think of restaurants, so I quickly walked out. He pointed to another toilet. I didn’t even go near it. There was a passport checkpoint, so I got a little reprieve from my tout, but I still had to go back out and face him. And I was still holding a 4-hour pee.

I wasn’t sure of the fair price for a ride to town here. But now I know I paid him double the proper amount. But at least he took me to where I asked: MASH: Melting Pot. But the lady said they were full. I asked her if I could use their toilet (They are only restrooms in America, everywhere else they are toilets). Remember that scene in A League Of Their Own where Tom Hanks took that 5 minute pee? They weren’t exagerating.

We were on a small dirt road lined with guesthouses, so I figured I would just walk and easily find a place to stay. But my tout, as touts will do, would not leave me alone. He relentlessly pestered me to take me to “his friend’s” guesthouse, where of course he would get a commision for bringing me. I had to forcefully, as I’m now learning to be, tell him that we were through, and paid him and walked away.

I quickly found a place. The Green Gecko Guesthouse. $4.00/night. I would stay there for the next 5 days.

Everywhere you walk in Sihanoukville, especially if you are a foreigner, there is a motorcycle taxi driver, called motodups in Cambodia, asking you if you want a ride. When you say no, they ask if you want to smoke, and they don’t mean Bensen & Hedges. And when you say no to drugs, they’ll ask if you want a girl. Almost every single one of them does this. And there are hundreds of them, it’s quite annoying.

So I spent an uneventful 5 days in Sihanoukville, Cambodia. It’s a beach town. The beaches are nothing like the beaches in Thailand, or Sarasota, Florida. But there are nice rock formations on them, and islands in view, so it was different than Sarasota in that respect. And despite the annoying motodups, it is a cool place to chill for a while, and get used to being in a new country. I only saw one of the beaches, Victory Beach, the others may have been better.

After I tired of Sihanoukville, I bought a bus ticket to Phnom Penh, the Capital of Cambodia. That’s where I am now, using the internet at my guesthouse. I’ve been here for about 4 or 5 days now, the guesthouse, not the internet (although it does take me quite a long time to write these posts).

Phnom Penh is a pretty cool city. I thought it would be full of limbless, homeless people begging for money, but it’s not like that. There are a few, but it’s not as bad as Bangkok, in my opinion. They mostly hang around the tourist attractions.

I went to the Killing Fields yesterday, made famous by the movie of the same name. And famous by what happened there. It’s a short distance outside of Phnom Penh. That’s where Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge had thousands of Cambodians exucuted. There is also a museum in a different location, but still in Phnom Penh, that was once a high school, but was turned into a prison by Pol Pot, where they tortured the prisoners before they brought them to the Killing Fields. It’s quite unerving to be there.

Oh well, I know the ending to this post was kind of lame and anticlimactic, but I just wanted to get you up to date on where I actually was right now. My last few posts had been days and days behind of where I really was. Soon I will go to another Cambodian town, perhaps, Kratie or Siem Reap. But I really want to go to Ratanakiri.

Whoever invented Dramamine should have won the Nobel Prize for medicine.

Mark