Going where I’ve never been

Wow. Trekking into Virachey was one of the most miserable, wonderful experiences I’ve had and is worthy of a lengthy joint post between Gabe and myself – I hope you have some time!

Gabe – The trip described below can only be organized through the Virachey National Park office of Eco-tourism in Ban Lung Cambodia.  The trip is an 8 day “out and back” backpacking trip through rough jungle with the sole purpose of exploring the Phnom Veal Thom Grasslands in a very remote part of northeastern Cambodia.  It takes 2 days just to reach the boundary of the national park and the area is home to many large rare endangered and even some endemic species.  Examples such as elephants, bears, tigers, guars, hornbills, leopards, etc. are known to exist in the area. Tourism is relatively new to Virachey National Park (VNP) as of the past 2 years.  Allison and I become only the 9th and 10th foreigners to visit the grasslands within the past year alone.  The entire area is virtually unexplored which is mostly what fueled my enthusiasm to organize the trip.  There will be no toilets, no trail markers, no bridges built.  We are forewarned many times it is a tough trip. With that heard we suggested to the ranger doing the trip in 6 days rather than the 8 days.  They reluctantly agreed.  For those interested in doing the trip yourself, do NOT do a trek organized by hotels or guesthouses.  They merely take you on a hike to see a much visited “minority”village and hike in a denuded forest they will often call Virachey.

Allison – To begin, I’ll introduce the characters in our adventure. First there is myself, a novice backpacker but confident endurance athlete, feeling a bit apprehensive about slippery rivers and jungle “toilets.” Next there is Gabe, an expert in both roughing it and in efficient packing, trying to relax and let the guide be “in charge”. There is our guide, Sokhoun, a 24 year old former park ranger/monk and a member of the Brau minority group, who earns just enough as a guide to pay his $25 rent and to buy rice for his parents when they run short of food. Finally, we have Dtung and Jon, two Brau villagers who are recruited to be our porters for the week. Jon is 23 years old and half my size, whereas Dtung is 19 with a wife and sick baby – he signed up for the money ($2.50/day) to buy medicine. Both speak only Brau and are completely illiterate, but Gabe and I were immediately awestruck by the sheer brilliance of thes two “jungle men.” Both embarked on our journey wearing rags of clothings, plastic flipflops and carrying torn plastic sacks full of all our food/pots on their back, using a knotted sarong as a makeshift backpack strap. Gabe offered to let them use his durable Chaco sandals – they just laughed and shook their heads, not knowing how to even put them on.

Gabe – It would be good to know that Saukhoun, who has only been a guide for 1 year, is the only ranger to bring foreigners to this minority village.  It is because of his minority upbringing in a Brau village that he is able to communicate with the village chief in order to allow our visitation.  Nearly all villagers are illiterate, much less able to speak Khmer (cambodian), Brau, and English. All these languages are necessary to pull off the logistics for a trip like this.

Onto the adventure…

Day One

Allison: We left the park headquarters around 9:30 with four people, three large backpacks, a 40 kilo (90 lbs) food sack, a bag of eggs, 12 liters of water and two motorbikes. My driver had the food sack between his legs, I sat behind him with the bag of eggs in my lap and my backpack on my back. It was a painful two-hour push through sloppy, rutted, hilly roads that involved weaving through herds of cattle and dodging wandering pigs. The discomfort was only redeemed through the gorgeous rural countryside.

Gabe – Once in Taveng, the other moto driver headed back to Ban Lung at this point.  He gave Saukhoun his word that he would come back in 6 days for the transport back to Ban Lung.  From Taveng there are no roads to the Phum Phayang minority village, which will serve as basecamp for our jungle trek.  The Se San river is a “highway” for people living in this area.  Saukhoun hires a local to take us about an hour downriver to the minority village. The village is set back from the river.  At first glance, we see nothing more than steps carved into the muddy river bank.

Allison – Eventually the three of us and all of the aforementioned bags were squeezed into a narrow wooden boat, motoring down the river towards the Brau village. We arrived less than an hour later, hauling our stuff up a muddy trail and into a bamboo stilt “house” where we would spend the night. The village houses 37 families (along with innumerable pigs, chickens, water buffalo), most of whom were busy in the rice fields at the time. Little kids and their mothers walked by and peered in, giggling at us – I’d expected to be the gawker, not the other way around! We hung our hammocks (US Army issue with built-in mosquito netting), and Sokhoun cooked dinner while Gabe and I bathed at the well. I made sure to study the bathing procedure of a few of the women before I attempted this. The women would effortlessly change from their sarong into a second while standing at the well. They would then draw a bucket of water, using a bowl to scoop the water over themselves. They’d lather their arms, legs, sarong and hair with a bar of soap, then draw a second bucket for rinsing. They’d then slip back into the dry sarong without revealing as much as their knees and be on their way! I (not so effortlessly) changed into my sarong while a group of curious village boys sat 10 feet away and stared, then I followed protocol as well as I could (though I welcomed Gabe’s help when it came to rinsing!). The village has no electricity, no toilets, uses the well for all water needs (prior to our “shower”we watched a cow drink from the bucket, followed by Sokhoun rinsing our dinner vegetables in the same) and has very few literate members. The rice fields keep most everyone, including children, busy all day every day, and only a few of the boys are allowed to attend school for part of the year in order to learn Khmer. Dinner was far more elaborate than I’d expected – we had beef with veggies and plenty of rice, all cooked over a campfire – and a massive 5 p.m. thunderstorm meant that we were sound asleep by 7. Amazing what you’ll do with no light!

Gabe – In Southeast Asia, one of the “tourist”things to do is to visit a minority village.  Thailand being the biggest draw shuffles tourists through like a petting zoo.  There is much controversy whether the influences of western society is good for the villages.  The villagers make all sorts of neat little souvenirs for the tourists to buy relying on these sales to improve their lifestyle.  In contrast, many of their traditions are lost as they now earn enough money from the tourists that they can now afford to buy food/clothes/etc. from town neglecting centuries of skills and traditions of living off the land.  With that said, the village we visited has only seen less than 10 foreigners.  I stated earlier that Saukhoun is a rare find in that he speaks their language and able to communicate with us.  He negotiates all deals with the village chief.  There are no souvenirs to buy, no tribal dance shows…just the minorities going about their daily routine.  If anything, we are the ones being stared at. This part of the trip was most rewarding as its a way to catch a genuine glimpse of what life is like for these minority villages without feeling like a visitor at the zoo. The VNP is aware that foreign influence can erode traditional village life and have established rules and guidelines that are strictly adheared to on both sides. We get many stares and some even peek inside our hut to get a look.  It feels innappropriate  for me to even bring out my camera.  We merely soak in the surroundings and village life.  Kids as young as 5 smoke tabacoo, women think nothing of baring their chest as they go about their chores.   This will be a genuinely raw experience!

Day Two

Allison: We were up before six with the rest of the village and got to packing while Sokhoun made noodles for breakfast. He’d recruited Dtung and Jon who packed up those ridiculous plastic sacks with our food – all I could think about was how glad I was that Sokhoun had ignored Gabe’s insistence that we didn’t need porters! By 8:00 we were off. The first stretch was the trail to the rice fields where we encountered plenty of villagers returning with hunting prizes (these guys use a handmade crossbow/arrows with poison made from tree barks – seriously) and plenty of mud. I gingerly tried to avoid deep puddles as wet running shoes would be uncomfortable – little did I know! Before too long we had to cross a river via a log. Incredibly, I made it without falling, but was getting less and less sure of things by the minute. By 11 we reached a “camp” where Dtung and Jon whipped up a delicious lunch in no time – just a small indication of the wonders to come from these two! After eating came the dreaded words: “Now we will walk in the river.” I had no choice but to follow, dragging waayyy behind in my attempt not to wipe out on the slippery rocks. Dtung patiently stayed behind me and it sounded like he was sharpening his machete as he walked. Sure enough, he silently handed me a perfectly cut bamboo hiking stick which made for much smoother walking. I was initially elated at finishing the river walk, but the feeling was soon destroyed by our entrance into the jungle. It sounds exotic and exciting, but let me tell you…the jungle is NOT a place for people! The next four hours were spent sweating, pushing through the thickest bamboo imaginable, climbing up steep, slippery slopes, swatting clouds of mosquitoes and tearing at leeches that seemed to multiply by the second. By the time that we reached camp (a sort-of clearing halfway up a mountain), I was bitten, bloody and not so sure about all of this. The porters worked their magic and with a few machete whacks, some branches and some vines were able to create structures for hanging five hammocks (they aren’t concerned with mosquito nets) with rain covers. They then started cooking while Gabe and I made a mad dash for the rocky creek where we splashed icy water on ourselves and got as “clean” as possible. I managed to slip and fall in my sarong on the way up, losing my socks, and the leeches continued to appear everywhere. Gabe and I huddled in his hammock and he admitted that even he hadn’t expected such a raw experience – the evening rains soon started and we went to sleep as soon as dinner was eaten.

Gabe – It was definitely a tough hike.  I knew it would be but I guess I never realized how tough it would be.  Everyone reading this must also realize that this trek into the jungle is Allison’s FIRST EVER backpacking trip.  After the first day in the jungle I was certain she would hate me forever.  Both of us were soaked with sweat, muddy, and dirty within 30 minutes of leaving the village.  That is how our clothes will stay for the rest of the trip.  Nothing drys in the jungle (unless you are a jungle man..more on that later).  By the time we arrived at camp poor Allison had blood stains on her arm, stomach, upper leg, lower leg, etc from leeches that got through her running shoes, leech socks, pants, and shirt.  Note the porters who wear only plastic flip flops and ragged pants the length of capris have not a drop of blood on them from leeches!  All day, as we slid, fell, tripped, snagged by thorns and bamboo, the minorities walked almost effortlessly through this mess without uttering a single sound of complaint.  They are also carrying about 40lbs each in a rice sack using a sarong to make backpack straps.  Dont I feel a bit ridiculous wearing my backpack, running shoes, jungle hat, leech socks?

 I do want to make sure everyone gets a good visual of Allison falling down in her sarong.  Steep slippery creek…more like a water slide.  Allison finally clean from all the bloody leeches, wearing nothing but her sarong wrapped around her like a towel, and carrying all her nasty wet bloody clothes back up to camp.  I hear a thud and see Allison heading down the rock…. it was pretty funny once I realized she was ok (but i didnt laugh until we were done with the trip).

Day Three

Allison: I awoke as soon as the sun was up, though I stayed hidden in my safe cocoon of a hammock for awhile, avoiding the inevitable. I finally emerged and things weren’t so bad; I was greeted by cool air, few(er) bugs and rice cooking over the fire. We ate (finished off the beef that we’d been carrying, raw, in a plastic bag for two days), packed and finally pulled on our still-wet clothing from the day before (Sokhoun’s shirt looked like it’d just been washed and pressed). From there, my optimism started to falter as I realized that today’s hike would begin by climbing up those slippery river rocks – I had a good knot on my hip from the night before and wasn’t too enthused! My companions were ready for my clumsiness and a joint effort was made to get me up in one piece. The rest of the day was more of the same…bamboo, mosquitoes, leeches, thorns and being tailed by a guy in 50 cent flipflops. We climbed the mountain til lunchtime (we boiled river water, our porters drank straight from the river…), then spent a couple of hours tearing our way through flatland bamboo forest. It was then time for the second mountain, though we were promised the reward of the grasslands (no leeches!) at the top. To my barang eyes, there was no trail, but these guys knew exactly where to go and plowed right through. Sometime around 3:00 I heard Sokhoun through the buzzing of the insects and the sweat in my ears: “The grassland!” And there it was! In one step the jungle transformed into rolling hills covered in soft grass and large stones. The bugs were gone, a breeze picked up and I finished the day’s trek in awe of the now postcard-worthy landscape. Dtung and Jon whipped up a camp just in time for the storm, then as soon as it passed they started making soup while Gabe and I enjoyed the stony, bug-free ground that would be our home for the next two nights. We all sat on a pile of rocks for dinner and enjoyed one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen. We continued to sit there until the sky was filled with an infinite starscape and I started to think that it was all worth it…

Gabe – So last night during dinner I was kind enough to share my hammock with Allison while we ate escaping the leeches.  She threw out a piece of fat from the meat, along with a couple egg shells under my hammock.  I didnt realize this until I got up an hour later only to have my feet (wearing sandals) burn with pain as there were millions of ants fiercly attacking the leftover food scraps my sweet little Allison tossed under my hammock 🙂

I am amazed at Saukhouns sense of direction.  We fought through the jungle for 2 solid days never seeing the sun and he led us directly to our destination.  Us foreigners need maps, compass and we still get lost…. or at least I still get lost!

Amazed at still having a girlfriend by this point I tried to be very encouraging as we climbed up the slippery creek that she slid down the evening before.  I never thought to prep her for the fact that there will be no toilet for 6 full days…  She was a trooper!  I don’t know of any girl that would put up with these conditions much less think its fun.  Oh wait…she told me many many times it was not fun 🙂  Its only fun after you are done with it!  In fact I seem to remember MANY times as she gritted her teeth mumbling, “I F$%#ing hate this place!” She is really cute when she is grumpy!

Day Four

Allison: This was a day for R&R. After a downright cold night in the hammock, the bright 6 a.m. sunshine was a welcome sight! It got warm immediately and we were finally able to dry out our disgusting clothes and wet shoes (meanwhile, the brilliant Jon simply hung his over the fire). Breakfast was prepared and eaten – Soukhoun told us how the porters were blown away by the eggs and meat, they typically have only rice to eat – then we went walking through the grasslands for a couple of hours. We saw a cave and climbed some rocks, but most of the time was spent sitting in the tall soft grass on the top of a large hill, marveling at the view – we were on a different planet from the day before! The rest of the was spent in true Cambodian style – lounging in our hammocks! There was another rock face that Sokhoun wanted to show us, but hinted to Gabe that it might be better if I stayed behind with Jon. It bugged me a bit (I don’t like being the weakest link!), but I figured he knew his stuff and I obligingly continued to lounge as Jon boiled more water, cut veggies, washed dishes and fixed his torn pants with a piece of vine (he probably built a house somewhere in there as well). Gabe and I hiked up to a nearby hill for the sunset – there was absolutely nothing as far as the eye could see and it was mindblowing to think that we were days away from the nearest settlement. At that moment I was 100% sure it had been worth the jungle, and realized that we are a few of the only people to have ever enjoyed a sunset over that particular landscape. Incredible. Perhaps the only thing more incredible was later that night, after dinner was eaten and the sky pitch black, that Dtung and Jon left to go fishing…with nothing but a knife.

GS – I am still floored by the amazing scenery!  Standing up on top of a mountain, the waist high grass floats in the wind, and there is jungle covered mountains in all directions as far as the eye can see.  

After lunch, Saukhoun and I hiked/climbed up a rock face to get a glimpse of the surroundings.  I found a snake skin that Dtung confirmed was from a cobra.  We found a huge beehive up on a tree limb.  While sitting up on the peak, there was a brilliant rainbow that dissappeared into the jungle canopy.  On the hike back, Saukhoun showed me a small cave and some bear fur.  This is left over from 2005 when a minority hunter killed the bear living in the cave.  Saukhoun was a park ranger at the time which is how he knew of the incident. The rangers try to create awareness that hunting endangered animals is illegal now.  I guess from their perspective they dont know any better.  Its been their way of life for centuries.  Now that the area is established as a national park, hunting here is forebidden..a concept the minorities dont understand.

Once back in camp Allison and I hike up to a nearby peak for an amazing sunset.  Dinner is served consisting of fresh veggetable soup w/ canned sardines served over rice.  Saukhoun said that the porters love coming on these trips because they eat so well.  Its rare they eat all these vegetables.  He said they take only rice with them and eat the leaves/plants from the jungle.  This conversation was taking place while, 5ft away, Dtung and Jon had spotted a small mouse.  They got excited and picked up a rock, hitting it on the run with near perfect accuracy.  They decided to go “catch” some fish for the mornings breakfast using only a knife.  I was nearly asleep when they came back but they each carried a stick (the stringer) with about a dozen small fish.  You could tell they were excited to show off their talents.  I laughed as Dtung dried his wet pants in about 10 mins rotating them over the fire.  Meanwhile my wet stinky clothes were hung up on a tree still drying from the day before.

Day Five

Allison: Today was going to be tough – not only did we have to return to the jungle, the plan was to make camp all the way back where we’d eaten lunch on the second day, leaving us with a short 2-3 hour hike on our final day. We begrudgingly pulled our protective clothing and leech socks back on, doused ourselves with DEET and I clung to my bamboo stick…Dtung and Jon, still in their flipflops, looked amused. It ended up being much better than the initial hike. The trail was much more defined after all the machete work that they’d done on the way out, and we also had a good day of rest behind us. We moved fast from the get-go, and I felt a bit of guilty triumph when I saw each one of our guides slip at one point or another (let’s disregard the fact that they practically bounded up the mountain, smoking cigarettes and shaking their heads at us all the way). I was in luck, and we bypassed that rocky river which I’d secretly been dreading since the moment I opened my eyes. At lunch Sokhoun told us that we were making very good time and should try to camp an hour further, where we ate lunch the first day. We agreed and continued to push on. We reached camp at around 3pm and figured that we might as well go another 1.5hrs to the rice fields where we will be almost out of the rough jungle.  We finished the hike in 50mins and after a water break we trucked all the way back to the village we started hiking from in another hour.  We staggered in at 5:00, sweaty and exhausted, we were the first non-villagers to have ever made the 35km, two mountain trip in a single day! Even Dtung and Jon were impressed, and apparently were spreading word around the village that the crazy barang held their own! We peeled off our horrendous clothing for the last time (Dtung was thrilled to take my sweaty, bloody shirt off of my hands to give to his wife) and finally were able to wash with soap in the well. We had a small dinner as village kids piled in for their evening lesson – they had the sole light in the village, a single bulb powered by a large battery, and a girl of about 17 drew things on a terrible excuse for a blackboard as they copied it into their books. Gabe bought a jar of rice wine for $2, expecting a small jar for maybe two people. Little did we know, rice wine is extremely potent, comes in a ceramic tank of a jug with a straw made out of a stick and is intended for 6+ people. The men of the village slowly but surely drifted in, accepting our offers to drink with us and before we knew it we were learning what is perhaps the most dangerous drinking game on earth – these wiry little men in their sarongs are professional rice wine drinkers, and the two of us were no match! The more we all drank (it is literally a bottomless jug), the better we could communicate, and everyone seemed to be having a ball. An incredible thunderstorm moved in, and between the blur of the wine, the illumination of the lightning and the pounding of the rain, I decided that this was one of the best trips I’d ever done!

Gabe – I still cant believe we covered 35km (20miles) in 1 day.  The porters were visibly impressed!  Back in the village, it was a relief to use soap and be clean once again.  The jug of rice wine was brought in around the time dinner was served.  Allison and I both beamed about how incredible the trip was especially now that it was over.  The villagers rolled into our hut and eventually there was quite a gathering.  Through our interpreter/guide, we were told the villagers all heard about the strong crazy barangs (white people) hiking back from the grasslands in 1 day.  Everyone participated in the rice wine.  The night was surreal as we sat there with people from a whole differnt world drinking wine and celebrating the day. People whose approach to life is so simple its difficult for us to comprehend and in a world where time has no weight.   Language was no longer a barrier once we drank enough wine as emotions and gestures said everything.  There we sat in a bamboo/grass hut drinking by candle light with thunder and lightning cracking in the distance.  This has been a very special trip that will be remembered for a lifetime!

Day Six

Allison: I rolled out of my hammock at dawn, still blurry-eyed from the rice wine but elated that we were in the village and not a 2 hour hike away. The day consisted of nothing more difficult than eating our rice, packing our bags and lounging in our hammocks until a boat came for us around 9. From there we traveled back to Taveng, sat in a small shop with the best cocacola that I’ve ever had, then piled back onto our motobikes (sans the 40 kilos of food!) for the dusty trip back to Ban Lung. There had been some road work done over the past few days (it also hadn’t rained), and the trip was infinitely smoother than it had been on the way out. By lunchtime we were able to take one of the best showers ever (hot water would have been the only improvement) and collapse onto the balcony couches for the remainder of the day.

We are currently in a town called Ban Lung, located in the remote northeastern corner of Cambodia. We arrived on Wednesday night after a 6 hour bus ride in the most rickety, dust-filled contraption I have ever encountered before (along the dustiest, bumpiest, sketchiest and most rural dirt road I have ever experienced). It was pure (though painful) entertainment as we watched things fall from the overhead rack, saw guys jump out when we passed ponds in order to throw buckets of water on the air filter and waited in vain for those rare moments when the a/c would start blowing.

 We had guesthouse guys waiting for us of course, and we took up the first ones we saw. They packed all six foreigners into a camry and drove us to the edge of town where they have  a beautiful lakeside guesthouse with a nice big balcony, good food (rare in Cambodia) and the cleanest rooms we’ve seen thus far for only $3 a night.

The next morning we were able to see everything in the daylight, and I fell in love. It’s the quietest town I’ve witnessed in Asia, it’s all dirt roads, the people are friendly and aren’t trying to sell you anything and the temperature, due to the higher elevation, is downright chilly at night. The surrounding hills are beautiful, there are cows/horses/roosters/water buffalo roaming anywhere they please and it is an absolutely ideal running spot (something that I haven’t done since leaving Bangkok).

We walked (sort of on accident) the 7km to Yeak Loam lake, a volcanic crater filled with absolutely crystal clear water. It was overcast and drizzly (so nice after the blazing how days we’ve had so far in this country), perfect for walking, and the water was just warm enough to be great for swimming. The lake is perfectly circular, surrounded by thick bamboo and a nice walking trail, and we had the place almost entirely to ourselves. Except for a small group of kids on the far side, Gabe and I were the only people floating in the whole lake – it was phenomenal.

Just north of Ban Lung is Virachey National Park, one of the most untouched and unexplored national parks in the world. Most guesthouses do two-day treks to the edge of the park, which I’m sure is nice, but we were after something a bit more hardcore and took ourselves straight over to the park headquarters and departement of ecotourism.

Tomorrow we will set off on a six-day trek into the park; it will be Gabe, myself,  two guides and a porter. We’ll meet early in the morning to go to the market and buy all of our food for the next week, then will take motorbikes to the town of Taveng. From there we will board a riverboat to a minority Brau village, where we will spend the afternoon and night. That will be a very unique experience, and we’re counting on learning some basket weaving and drinking some rice wine – they’re an animist group with very specific cultural mores and I am so excited to stay overnight and experience how they live.

We leave early Sunday morning and start walking – it will be 7+ hours of walking through jungle, in a river, and into the grasslands each day. We’ll set up camp each evening and sleep in hammocks with mosquito nets, then get up early for wildlife viewing and, of course, more walking. We are going to be wet, smelly and absolutely exhausted by the end of the week, but I cannot wait! I’ve never done anything of the sort and am sure that I will learn a ton in the realm of roughing it. It’s also fascinating that in the past two months, only one other person has been in this area – this is about as remote as you can get!

I’ll of course have much more to write after I actually finish the trek, so check back in a week or so – we’ll spend another day or two in Ban Lung afterwards, ,head directly back to Phnom Penh where we’ll immediately escape to Vietnam. In any case, somewhere around the 24-26th (providing I don’t encounter an angry tiger) there should be a new blog and many new photos – wish me luck on this!

Gabe was informed that his $1 haircut was “very expensive!” by a local man, which means the $9 that I paid today was downright robbery!

Robbery or not, the “shampoo” was an hour long head/neck/back massage with some soap and water thrown in, I was given complimentary drinks and the haircut was superbly done, especially considering that all communication was done via sign language. Nine dollars well-spent!

Our Vietnam visas have arrived and we will gleefully depart Phnom Penh at 7 a.m. tomorrow. We’re heading to a town called Kratie, which will serve as a stopover before continuing on the next day to Ban Lung, the jump off point for Virachey National Park. This is one of the most unexplored national parks in the world and is impossible to enter without a guide – it should be an adventure! I don’t know what sort of internet access I’ll have there, as there are definitely no ATMs (hope we have enough!), but I will report on it as soon as I can…

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.

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…

Somehow I was able to upload some photos using what is essentilly dialup internet! It was a laborious process, and I’d really appreciate it if you checked them out… Today was an incredible day and I will write soon, but I’ve more than worn out my welcome at this computer for the time being!

After nearly a week in Cambodia, I can say that it is dusty, dirty and poor…but I love it! It is difficult to describe this place, as it is so different from anything that I have ever seen before, and is so multi-faceted.

First of all, there is Angkor Wat, the largest, most incredible religious monument ever created and hundreds of surrounding temples from the ancient Khmer empire. It is easily as awe-inspiring as Rome, if not more so, and hard to believe even as you are physically walking through the galleries and climbing up impossibly steep steps to the tops of the temple ruins.

We bought three day passes and rented bicycles for $1/day, which proved to be THE way to do it (most people hire a tuktuk for the day)! We were on the road by 5 a.m. the first two days, pedaling through the cool, tree covered road that leads from Siem Reap to Angkor, and were able to be there in time for the incredible sunrise at Angkor Wat. Both days were long, hot, exhausting and incredibly rewarding! The ruins are spectacular, absolutely mindblowing, and there are an endless number to explore. Between the temples we were able to ride our bikes alongside glittering rice paddies, kids herding water buffalo and many other pieces of Khmer life.

On the third day we hired a driver to take us to an out-of-the-way temple, Banteay Srei, and while the temple was great, the hour drive out there was what made the trip. The road led through several villages full of bamboo huts, the greenest rice paddies imaginable, and Khmers going about their daily life – naked toddlers running around, kids herding cattle, old sarong-clad women preparing food over fires on the ground, men building/fixing/hauling all sorts of things. This isn’t some tourist setup, this is really how these people live. There were thousands of incredible photo opportunities, but you can’t go around pointing cameras at people. It’s an experience that will have to be preserved in our minds…

On the way back we had our driver stop at the Landmine Museum, an extremely soberng  experience. It was set up by a guy who became a child soldier for the Khmer Rouge after they murdered his parents at age 5. He spent years laying landmines and has now devoted his life to removing them; the museum is also a residential school for children who have been victims of landmines , ensuring that they have food and an education and aren’t forced to do what most amputees have to do here – begging. The museum was a small, informal setup but made such an impression on me – one in every 200 Cambodians are missing limbs due to landmines, and there are still an estimated 3-6 million that have yet to be discovered and detonated. It’s sad and uncomfortable to realize that a majority of these mines were laid by Americans during the Vietnam War, and that most of the victims have been innocent children (look, a toy!) and farmers. This country has not had an easy past.

Yesterday we just relaxed and hung around Siem Reap, catching up on some reading, writing and rest. This morning we rented bikes once more and headed south, towards the Tonle Sap lake. There is apparently a floating village out there that you can hire boats to, but after having every other tuktuk driver try to convince us to go, we figured that it was a huge tourist trap and decided to just enjoy a bicycle ride. We stopped at a bakery for breakfast (thanks, French colonialism!) and headed out. As soon as we got through the chaotic roads of Siem Reap we found ourselves on a quiet, open road stretching through glowing rice paddies and lined with simple wooden shacks, open-air restaurants and lots of little kids running out, flashing radiant smiles and yelling “hello!” Then there was the old woman, pedaling along in her long colorful sarong, who laughed and challenged us to a race as we came up beside her. A bit later, as I stopped to take a photo, she caught up with Gabe and made certain that he knew to stop and wait for me. I think these are some of the friendliest, most genuine people that I’ve ever encountered.

We got down towards the lake and witnessed more genuine village life. Once we managed to brush off the guys trying to sell us a boat ride, it was an incredibly rewarding ride! It’s impossible to describe the poverty without actually being here – every one of these families live in a small thatch hut, hovering only inches above the water, and cram at least 8 people into each one. Most people set up a spread of random things/food to sell out front, the kids run around halfdressed but happy as can be, waving widely at us with the biggest smiles imaginable. The school and health center police station are all simple structures over the water as well, there are women on the roof of their huts laying out rows of fish to dry, men pounding giant piles of rice grain in small open shacks – you honestly have to see it for yourself to comprehend how little these people have and how their living/hygiene standards, in our eyes, don’t even begin to border on basic. Despite all of this, these people all wear radiant smiles, are obviously closer to their family than we can even begin to comprehend, and everyone gave out truly genuine, friendly greetings as we passed.

We’re planning to go visit a local orphange this afternoon, as they are always in need of some school supplies and people to come play with the kids a bit. I’m really looking forward to it – I don’t think that I have ever seen more adorable children than Í’ve seen here, and there are so many that need help. Over 40% of the population is under the age of 15, thanks to the massacres of the 1970s, and it’s impossible to not want to help in some way. This is definitely a place with a very unlucky history, but they certainly do whatever they can to make it, always in good spirits.

…tuk tuk solicitations within a half mile radius and a two hour time period.

We said our goodbyes, donated 90% of our ‘stuff’to neighbors, packed our ”box” into two backpacks and headed towards Cambodia on Tuesday morning. I had done my research after many warnings about Poipet, the border town that we would be crossing through. Warnings about tour bus scams, hordes of children swarming you and exploring your pockets upon arrival, immigration officials demanding 1500 baht (when it should be $20) for your visa and refusing service unless you pay up, taxi touts that will get you to pay $70 for a ride to Siem Reap and then dump you at a commission-paying guesthouse…all sorts of things. We were smart and got our visas in Bangkok, ensuring that they would cost $20 and allowing us to bypass most of the border hassle. We also decided to take a government bus and then arrange onward transport from the border – surely we’ve been in Asia long enough to avoid surprises and walk away unscammed!

We did manage to walk away scam-free, but there was a significant element of surprise! i spent all morning at Bangkok immigration, then met Gabe immediately at the bus station – we were on a bus for $7 apiece within 15 minutes. We arrived near the border around 5:00 and, as the only white people on the bus, we instantly approached by a well-dressed, english-speaking guy who was all too happy to pur our bags onto a waiting tuktuk for a ride to the border. The price was right  about $2 – but I knew as soon as he got into the tuktuk with us that there were strings attached. Once at the border he ‘helped’ us through, saying the our best bet was a share taxi and that he knew of two chinese guys who were in the visa line and would be happy to share with us. i knew from my research that this was correct, but wondered where he was getting his cut from…

The border process was painless thanks to our prearranged visas, but once through we decided to be difficult. He wanted about $18 per person for four people in a taxi. I told him that I knew it was $40-50 and he insisted that whatever i read on the internet was from a year ago, i had to understand that gasoline is expensive now. It was hard to argue that, but i was pretty sure that I’d seen those figures on pretty recent forums. We proceeded hesitantly.

The change from Thailand to Cambodia, in a few short yards, is drastic. Poipet is notoriously seedy and i’ve been told to never be there after dark; regardless, the roads were red mud, everything was just incredibly dirty, tattered and smacked of poverty. Everything, except the giant casinos intended for the wealthy Thais! Naturally, the chinese guys had gotten ‘held up” and would be unable to share our taxi. How about they give us a special discount and give us the entire taxi for only $60?? We shook our heads, stood our ground, and said we didn’t have that much. There were other drivers standing around and we started to talk to some, asking their prices, but the tout started towards them and they instantly backed away, telling us to ask him. Defintely sketchy.

We continued to be difficult and we could tell that this guy really wanted a fare, so he told us to wait, that he would go

”check” on the Chinese guys. He magically reappeared with a British man a few minutes later, telling us that we could go for $15 each but to keep quiet, the other guy was paying $20. We decided this was reasonable and, not wanting to gt caught in the encroaching darkness, agreed and climbed in.

It all worked out wonderfully! We only had three passengers, and our fellow passenger just so happened to live in Burma, a place that he moved to after 15 years in Cambodia doing humanitarian water/sanitation work. He spoke great Khmer and was a wealth of information, a really fascinating guy. The trip was unreal. The road is apparently kept in terrible condition because Thai Airways, who dominates the route between Bangkok-Siem Reap, pays the Cambodian government not to fix it. Basically, we had four hours of bumpy, muddy downright chaotic driving! It was pouring rain, the road is red mud, from what we could see, everything on the sides of the road was under two feet of water and there are all sorts of other cars/motorbikes/trucks/cows to dodge. I could see why the taxis look the way that they do!

It was an adventure though, and we stopped halfway at a little shack of a store/home where an 8 year old sold us some Angkor Beer and spoke to us in perfect english before asking for a coin. We obliged and wondered what was up ahead…

Eventually we entered civilization and the taxi driver, prohibited from entering the town,pawned us off on some tuk tuks who gave us a free ride to our guesthouse. Everyone spoke incredibly good English,nothing like Thailand. Our guesthouse was surprisingly nice and, at $5/night with free internet and 50 cent beer, I think we’ll stay a few days! I hadn’t eaten a thing all day, so we went straight for the guesthouse restaurant,a big no-no in the world of backpacking. We were appropriately disappointed, after being greeted with a super-boring menu we paid $1 apiece for “thai-noodle soup” – we were presented with Ramen.

That was enough to hold us over (it was 10 pm by this point) and we headed into the town to check it out. It’s overrun with tourists, begging children grabbing at your pockets, tuk tuk drivers asking you every 30 seconds if you need a ride, women with their babies asking you to buy them formula – and nearly no vendor food! We’d been warned that western food is better than Cambodian food, and it didn’t look like you had much option!

We finally settled at a market and picked something from a menu full of fried rice, noodles, soup…after Thailand, it was painful! Today was much more rewarding, as we had daylight and time to explore. We were still pursued by every driver in existence (crazy to me, because this whole place is walkable!) and a kid here and there looking to strike up a conversation before asking for a coin, but after a day of walking and discovering local Khmer restaurants (NOT the pizza and mexican places on every corner), i think we both like it a lot better here. They actually have trees, theré’s a lot of French influence in the architecture and food (meaning there is bread!) and the people are very friendly, even if they are only interested in you for what you might purchase. They even drive on the right side of the road, which is surprising difficult to get readjusted to! It is incredibly poor and dirty though – a reality check, for sure. The US dollar is the de facto currency, as the riel is so overinflated that it is only used for small change. It’s odd to be back with dollars (but no coins) and it’s hard to break my habit of speaking Thai to these people!

It is POOR, no doubt about it, and it’s sobering to think of how recent their tragic history is – there is evidence everywhere. It’s hard, because these people really do need help, but you cannot give in to everyone, or even many. I have a feeling that it will only get more intense, as we are in a relatively wealthy tourist area – note that these people still liv in small wooden bungalows with a mattress and a makeshift shop, selling whatever they happen to have, out front. It’s a world away from Thailand.

The craziest thing is that EVERYONE speaks english, most very well. There is certainly motivation, as it is a surefire way to make money (difficult for us, because now the touts can argue and reason with you, instead of the conversation stopping at ‘no.”), but so bizarre after Thailand, where the grasp on the language rarely extends past ordering food and introductions.

I will write more soon, but wanted my parents to know that we made it safely. Tomorrow we will head to Angkor Wat for our first day – we are going to rent bicycles and take three days to tour it. We will be sure to stay on the roads – landmines are still very prevalent, thanks to the good old USA, and should have plenty to write about very soon! Hopefully we will find internet fast enough for photo-upload, as this really is an entirely new world…

*please excuse the typos, this keyboard is circa-1973 and the internet connection isnt much better…

A headline in yesterday’s Bangkok Post declared that Thailand is “slightly less corrupt” in 2008 than in 2007. It was eye-catching headline that highlighted the 2008 Corruption Perception Index, which was just released. Thailand ranks 84 out of 180 countries – could be better, could be worse. Again, this is based on a worldwide perception  of various countries, something that is a very legitimate issue in such an interconnected world.

It was interesting (in a depressing sort of way) to find that the U.S. ranks 18th – in terms of developed nations, only France ranked worse, by one spot. It’s on par with what I’ve seen during my time out of the country. No one has a problem with Americans, but everyone, and I mean everyone, has a problem with our government. I’ve been told more than a few times that people just can’t understand how we moved from being a sort of naive but overall inspiring entity to such an aggressive, threatening one. Honestly, the rest of the world considers America to be a huge threat to the rest of the world. I know a Thai girl here that went to visit a friend living in Boston; she cannot get over how friendly people were! She literally was scared to go, as America is no longer perceived as a friendly or welcoming place to those who haven’t been.

We affect the rest of the planet in huge ways, and they are aware of it – you’d be amazed at how closely and how passionately these other countries follow what is happening in ours. I’ve had politicial and social discussions with Thais, Australians, Canadians, Brits, South Africans, Argentinians, Filipinos, a variety of Europeans – they follow our news much more closely than most Americans that I know.

They all feel sorry for us as citizens and, while I won’t use this as some political soapbox, I guarantee that there is not a foreigner out there who wants McCain. Rather, they are terrified that it could be McCain and it’s not uncommon for someone to ask for reassurance – surely there’s no way it could happen, is there? People are genuinely excited about the prospect of Obama, and I’d say most are more concerned about what happens in November than they are with anything happening in their own homelands.

I wish that more people could be personally exposed to the views of others, because it really makes you realize what an important issue world relations and perceptions are. It also highlights just how big of an impact we do make in such a huge world and that we seriously need to change some things.  Hopefully next year we can do a bit better than #18.