Gooooood Mooooring Vietnaaaaaam!!!!!!
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
Or, afternoon as it were when we arrived in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh) from Phnom Penh in Cambodia. From the moment you arrive in Ho Chi Minh it's hustle and bustle all the way. The traffic is just incredible.. honestly, if you think you've seen traffic... stand on the sidewalk of a main road in Ho Chi Minh city and TRY to cross the road.. I dare you.
Funny about the road rules in South East Asia.. there AREN'T any. Basically, small yields to big.. which means if you are on foot.. YOU yield to everything. If you DO dare and cross the road do so slowly, keeping an eye on the oncoming traffic and shuffle your way into the chaos.... instincts tell you to run.. because that's what you'd do in Sydney.. or (god forbid).. in our wondering "city" of Gosford.... and you can honestly try your luck.. chances are though if you DO run you'll be hit by a moto in less than a second... and there's nowhere to run to either, because once you're IN the traffic... you are literally IN it... once you step off th curb there's absolutely no turning back.
I liked Ho Chi Minh, and it's a pity that me being sick forced us to skip catching the train to Hanoi because it would have been great to see more of the Vietnamese countryside... it just wasn't to be however.
There's actually so much to do in Ho Chi Minh that it's pretty easy to fill a day, especially if you're walking. B and I decided to do the walking tour that the Lonely Planet recommends and it turned out relatively well, except that the Palace was closed for some kind of worldly meeting adn we decided to skp the zoo and botanical gardens after we'd walked ALLLLL the way there because the entrance fee was too high, and I wasn't sure I was ready to see animals behind bars. There was a protest going on at the Palace, we could't get information on what it was and I was ushered away by a policeman.. my instincts were telling me to get out my camera and start shooting but I didn't want to have to pay off more cops and I was too tired to make a run for it after he caught me taking illegal photos... so I refrained...
We visited the War Museum.... which was actually pretty interesting for the most part. A lot of the museum focuses on the Vietnam war and is told through photography, so I took a special interest and made sure I looked at every photo and read every caption. A lot of photo journalists, including some Aussies were killed or went missing in action and their photographs are of particular showcase here. I'd like to find out more about one woman photojournalist who dared to venture into the hot zone and eventually got killed for it. I'll never forget the photo of her laying on her stomache after being fatally wounded in cross fire while a priest reads her her last rights... it's just so surreal, standing there looking at an actual, real life photograph of a person in their last moments... and inspiring person too. So... I took more time than I usually would at this museum because of my interst in the subject matter.. B got pretty bored and I found him outside sitting down with a drink waiting for me.
The rest of the museum is filled with tanks and planes and other such war machines and there's even a guillotine.. fun that one... and a replica of the cages they kept prisoners of war in. There's a whole section dedicated to Agent Orange... photo's of kids with deformities... the story of twins born connected at their wastes... (like catdog) and how they now live after being successfully separated.
It's very strange to walk around these museums that fill the tourist routes around South East Asia and realise that all their main museums focus on war, not culture, not history, not natural history.. war... we are so used to art and culture museums that it's easy to forget that wars actually happened, and unless you visit the War Museum in Canberra, it's easy to brush over it. yet here.... it's so prevailent. War is everywhere... in the photography, in the bookstores, at the temples, you can't escape it. I have never truly known war. Sure... there's a few of them going on right now that Australia is involved in... but us.. as normal people.. have never known "war". And that's something to think about when you meet people from South East Asia, most of them in their life times have experienced war first hand... and it's hard not to wonder in places like Vietnam and Cambodia when you look at or speak to the older people.. were they in the war? Did they keep prisoners of war? Were they in the Khmer Rouge? Or were they victims? And the fact of the matter is.. you just don't know... war is everywhere... but you never ask about it. It's never actually spoken about. You just learnt hat it happened. It's personal yet so objective.
After a few good hours at the museum we decided to leave, those types of places just drain you. So we ended up going back to the main backpacker area where we were staying and decided to do a bit of shopping. B and I both bought those famous conical hats the Vietnamese wear and we were told so many times how great we looked. I bought two silk dresses too, one for my Mother and the other for myself and was showered with flattery at how "beautiful" I was.. I'm not sure what these Vietnamese define as beauty, but I sure as hell don't call a sweat covered, stinking and dishevelled backpacker remotely pretty.... nice people though.
Now, the other thing you simply MUST do besides buy a conical hat while you're in Vietman... is experience a classic form of transport. Yep, you guessed it... a ride on a rickshaw... I felt SOOOO sorry for my driver because I must have been so heavy... but there's something so nice about being peddaled around in peak hour traffic... that's VIETNAMESE peak hour traffic... that I just loved every second of it. Sure we looked like rediculous tourists... but who cares right... when in Saigon...
B and I even watched Superman at a really nice Coffee House... I had to sit on the floor because there weren't enough couches but I was fine with that.
All in all... in the short time we were there.. I really liked Vietnam. The people, the traffic and the food.
Land Mine Museum
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
You haven’t experienced true Cambodia if you’ve never spoken to a Land Mines victim, and once you have done so you will never be the same. It will change you for life and it will smash every bit of security and innocence you’ve been brought up with.
On the last day of our 7 Day Angkor pass we had no idea what we were going to do next, we were so templed out that I would have screamed if I had to climb the steps to another Temple and when our Tuk Tuk driver suggested we visited the Land Mines Museum I was a little hesistant.. I was exhausted from visiting killing fields and seeing bones and clothes from those that were killed, and I thought the entry fee would be outrageous, so I was a little unsure. He assured us that it was fine and that entry was free so we decided to give it a go. It was about a 20 minute Tuk Tuk drive through back lanes and alley ways in the countryside near the main Angkor park and when we arrived we were greeted with a bunch of kids repeating “hello and welcome” like they were rehearsing their newly learnt English sentences.
The Museum itself is actually not a museum by modern standards, but rather a piece of land dedicated to showcasing the different types of bombs and guns used during the various wars and is run by a man named Akira as an awareness program. He takes in kids that have been victims of land mines and teaches them to be guides around the compound which is the most hard hitting thing I’ve seen yet. Our guide’s name was Poiy and when he was younger he was sent into the bush to gather some firewood where he stood on what is known as a Two Leg Mine. When his father found him he was so weak from blood loss that his father could do nothing but leave him alone to try and find some help, which could be miles away. While he was gone, Poiy was attacked by a Tiger that had smelt the blood from his maimed leg and had come to find an easy feed… Poiy had grabbed his father’s gun and shot at the Tiger and upon hearing the gunshot his father came rushing back thinking that his son had been killed only to find his son laying there with a gun and still losing blood. He had missed the tiger but managed to scare the tiger away, saving his own life. As Poiy was showing us an inactive version of the mine that took his leg it was unbelievable, walking around the compound you have no idea you’ve just stepped on a concealed mine until he points it out to you and you realise how such things happen to people, how they lose their limbs and their lives.. just like that.. step, boom, gone. You never even see what you step on.
B was so distressed by this that as Poiy was telling us the story he could not look into Poiy’s eyes… I on the other hand, couldn’t help it. Hearing the emotion in Poiy’s voice and watching the tears well in his eyes as he shared something about himself that’s so horrible no one would want to relive it the way he was… I wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him, but something in me told me it would be inappropriate and that Poiy would lose face through the pity a hug would portray to him. So I didn’t. I stood there and just silently let the tears roll down my face as he fought back his own tears to continue his story.
We saw the mines and the guns and we read the stories, but nothing touched me more than Poiy’s story. So true and honest. I truly am changed from it. I won't say too much because it's too emotional for me to recount and I don't want top drip my tears all over this internet cafe's keyboard.. so I'll just leave you with what I've written and point you to take a look at the photo link.
10 Things I Miss About Home
Okay, so travelling abroad can be tough, everyone knows that… but what are the types of things you start to crave or miss while you’re away? You’d think it’d be the luxuries like hot showers and manicures right? Well, not for me…. For me…. I miss the stupid things. So I’ve decided to list them below in no particular order. Hopefully it will help refresh my thoughts a little bit.
Work – Believe it or not, I miss it. Plus it’s always great to have a steady income. It’s really frustrating when everything is in US Dollars and when your country does not use US Dollars, you’re funds dry up really quick. Thought it was cheap to travel Asia? Only if you’re American it seems.
Family – Crazy, but true.
Friends – Being able to just hang out and watch a movie or chat over a few glasses of red.
Riding in cars – This seems odd but when your main form of transport is on the backs of motorbikes and in Tuk Tuk’s you start to appreciate being able to wind a window up when dust starts to blow in your eyes.
English – It’s great to be able to communicate with people in their own language…. But a lot of the time, different areas have different dialects… so learning to say “hello” to someone in Khmer in the Cambodian capitol Phnom Penh is virtually useless when you arrive in a place like Battambang because it’s so different everywhere. At least in English if you say hello to someone they don’t tell you you’ve pronounced it wrong after pretending not to understand you the first million times you’ve said it.
High Heels and make-up – Let’s face it, I’m a girl, I like feeling pretty.
The lack of bugs – Seriously, they’re EVERYWHERE. Back home, if I found a bug in my soup, there is NO WAY IN HELL I would just take it out and continue eating it… but for some reason, over here it’s okay…. Odd.
My Bedroom – I don’t really know why, my bed for one thing… being able to sleep in a bed and not be paranoid that there are bugs in it.. see.. they’re EVEYWHERE. On the upside though, there are very few spiders.. and the one’s we have seen just look like giant daddy long legs.. well, apart from the spider the size of my face on the jungle trek… but other than that… relatively spider free…I’ve probably just jinxed myself though, so stay tuned for an update.
Television – I do.. I really do.. especially when the ads on TV here are in English, but the actual shows are in Thai....so you spend more time flipping through the channels trying to FIND the ads so you CAN watch them.. rather than flip channels to avoid them like you do back home.
Steak – I hardly eat any at home... but over here it seems to be all my tastebuds want...
Battambang
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
After our 7 day pass for Angkor ran out, and after we’d seen pretty much all there was to see of Siem Reap we decided to head to Battambang, which is supposed to be famous for National Georgraphic worthy scenery and their Bamboo Train.
We were supposed to leave on the 14th, but because I had fallen sick I couldn’t get out of bed, let alone make it to a bus for a 6 hour trip. So we re-booked the bus for the next day hoping that I would be well enough in the morning to make it. Morning came, and even though I was still feeling under the weather we headed on out to the bus… which is actually a bus from wherever you’re staying to the actual bus that takes you to your destination. Turns out we had some pretty good seats, in between the wheels, but when we boarded the bus, the stuard decided that we needed more “leg room” and placed us at the back of the bus… yep, the back seat.
Now, when you’re 14 and in high school this is THE coolest place to sit on the bus… but when you’re 25 and sick from food poisoning or God knows what, the back of the bus is the WORST place to be. Couple that with a road from Siem Reap to Battambang that is so filled with pot holes it shouldn’t be legal to use… and you can bet your life you’ll be in for the best fun park ride you’ve EVER been on. I’m am pretty confident that I got air out of my seat on more than one occasion and Byron started to make cracks about wishing we had seat belts because we were afraid we would get thrown around so much from the bumpy ride, get launched down the isle of the bus and smash head first through the front wind shield. Good news is that even though it was becoming evident that it was a very likely possibility, the pot hole we’d land in would be big enough for the both of us and the bus would bounce straight over it and miss us completely!! But we actually could not have guessed that the ride would be as treacherous as it was, because we decided to take some motion sickness tablets…. Which made for a veeeery interesting ride… very “bouncy and floaty”... those motion sickness tablets sure do get you high… and they also make you reeaaaaally sleepy. So if you can piece all of that together you can imagine what it would have been like for 6 hours. Who needs drugs when you have a bus, some crater-like pot holes and some motion sickness tablets?!
Anyhoo, we eventually arrived in Battambang and checked into the Chheya Hotel where B had something to eat and I crashed out from feeling so terrible. Later on I felt like I could finally eat so we checked out the trusty travel bible (Lonely Planet) and picked out the only place that sounded even remotely appealing… the Balcony Bar. It was a nice wooden place set on the river front with palms and geckos everywhere and some great food. Apparently it’s the bar that Angelina Jolie frequented when she was staying in Battambang, so it was kinda cool in a way to wonder where she sat and what she ordered.
The bar is actually run by a guy from Melbourne named John and we chatted with him for about an hour about various things. He’s married to a Khmer lady and has lived in Battambang for 5 years. He originally was invited to work in a bar and eventually decided to set up his own, but he teaches at the local school for a day job… and he can down Anchor beer like a true Aussie. Not so surprising, after being here all this time John tells us he still cannot pick up the language, and pretty much gets by with broken English and a few Khmer phrases. That made us feel a whole lot better because if he’d been there for 5 years and still hadn’t picked it up then our 3 weeks of struggle is nothing.
So with our bellies full and me feeling a little better we got up the next morning, which was to be our only full day in town and hired two moto drivers for a tour of Battambang. This is where all the dust and crap decided to take up residence in my eyes and when the day was over I could barely see anything. But during the day we had a pretty good tour. It started with a massive ride out to the countryside where Phnom Sampeau is located. During the war (Khmer Rouge times) it was used as a base for the government’s defence and to reach it you trek straight up the hill on a marked path. I feel terrible for saying it, but I am honestly tired of seeing “killing fields”..... and that, with a few Wat’s and Stupa’s, is what is at the top of the mountain. More skulls and bones and clothes of people thrown into caves as a cruel way of execution by the Khmer Rouge. Don’t get me wrong, I feel every bit of empathy for the souls of those murdered, but my conscious cannot take anymore heartache.
On the way down I was becoming more and more exhausted that by the time we had ridden to the next temple, Wat Banan, I took one look at the massive staircase leading up the mountain and came to the decision that if I was to climb those stairs I would collapse at the top, and chose not to go up, so B went alone. Apparently I didn’t miss much because it’s an 11th century ruin, inspired by Angkor Wat, and from the pictures B showed me, a popular make out spot with the locals. B showed me a picture he took of a guy with his girl.. and he wanted B to take a photo of himself with his arm around her but she wouldn't hear of it.. it's hilarious to look at her pulling away from him in the photos B took.
The day was getting on a bit so we headed out to catch the infamous Bamboo Train back into Battambang, but not before we detoured through the countryside, got lost, got told we were going the wrong way by an annoyed old woman, and visited a Wat where the surrounding trees are home to hundreds of fruit bats. I’m not entirely certain as to why our moto drivers would think fruit bats to be an attraction westerners would have a desire to see, but the fact that B’s moto driver found a recently deceased fruit bat, opened it up to show us, checked it out for any visible rotting, decided it looked fine, and popped it in the basket of his moto to take home to eat was worth every second!! Apparently it’s a delicacy!! Yummo. They however, didn’t see anything wrong with telling us the bat had died from a disease and had fallen out of the tree…. they were going to eat it!
The Bamboo Train was a little weird and I wasn’t feeling the best at this point. It’s located right next to a brick factory so there is rock and ash in the wind and a massive storm was brewing which was stiring up all the ash. This is where I suspect the problem with my eyes became worse. But more on that later. The Bamboo Train (Norry) is basically a set of rickety looking tracks that may or my not have been “borrowed” permanently from an actual train line, laid on uneven ground on metal sleepers and built up on a mound through the rice paddy’s and picturesque countryside. The train itself consists of two sets of wheels, a small engine and a platform to sit on which rests atop the wheels. As we watched them put it together I wondered to myself what our drivers were going to do, whether or not they’d ride back and meet us in Battambang or if we paid them here and they finished for the day… just as I was making a decision about my thoughts they uploaded the first moto onto the train…. Yep… both motos came along for the ride as well as a few kids. We started up and headed along for about a minute before a train coming from the other way forced us to stop so they could continue…
It was a nice ride getting to see the landscape, and as it started to rain I regretfully had to put away the camera because the storm had set in and it was way too wet and windy to brave keeping it out, so I didn’t manage to get a lot of photo’s from the ride… and lucky it was away too, because when we came across some kids who had purposely put another train on the tracks to block our path, our driver had to get out and take it apart himself so we could continue on, and as we headed on, the ring leader of the group threw a lit cigarette at me… I tell ya kidlets… it took every ounce of will power I posses not to jump off the train, run after him and slap him over the head with my camera… so it’s lucky it was put away because of the rain. The driver told us he’s an orphan and has no discipline and will turn out to be a bad man. Strange that he hangs out with a family that lives by the side of the tracks but no one seems to care enough to “discipline” him. So he just goes around putting rocks on the tracks to try and de-rail the trains and block the path with other trains while throwing lit cigarettes at people. Charming. Can’t say I felt sorry for that one. I wish I did, but my compassion and patience was being completely challenged at that point.
Our tour ended back in central Battambang and eventually it was time for dinner, so we ate at The Cold Night Restaurant at the recommendation of my moto driver and it was actually quite nice. They have a tame, un-caged parrot that begs for peanuts and a few dogs that scavenge for food and even though it seems to be set in the backwater part of town it’s actually a pretty nice place to eat and when you’re craving pepper steak and an obscure restaurant in an obscure place has an even more obscure menu, you’d better grab at the chance because it won’t come by again…
By the time we got back to our room my eyes were so sore and swollen that they had actually started to close, particularly my left one. No amount of bathing or rinsing them helped and I ended up in the bathroom exhausted, stressed, and emotional if not only to see if crying actually helped expel whatever was lodged in my eyes. By morning my left eye had completely fused shut and when I pried it open I could barely see… and that’s my camera eye!!!!! ( I am left eyed). So the bus trip back to Phnom Penh was also pretty awful because I couldn’t see properly and it was causing some major pain. I had no idea eyes could suffer such pain. When we arrived at the Angkor International Hotel in Phnom Penh the woman with the odd sounding accent that owned it told me I looked to be in terrible pain and suggested I go to the hospital to have my eyes looked at. So she organised their Taxi to take me to a local eye hospital where they charged me $10US (apparently locals get charged $1US, but with the pain I was in, I would have paid anything, so 10 bucks was nothing to me and we got to jump the line and ge looked at straight away) to have them cleaned and treated and it cost another 4 to pick up the prescribed eye drops which have done wonders. The amount of crap that came out of my eyes was amazing… and it was great to be able to see again. It closed up again for the next couple of nights but it was a lot better. It turns out that the owner of the Angkor International Hotel went to Australia as a refugee during the Khmer Rouge and lived there for 30 years, which explained the accent I had found so strange earlier. Once she had told us she had lived in Australia I could hear the accent in certain words she pronounced, particularly her a’s. It was like a mix of Khmer and Aussie... very odd.
In the morning we were to head out to the airport to catch our flight to Viet-nam and as we packed out things and prepared to leave I took an extra look around because it’s was possibly the last time I’ll be in Cambodia. It’s been good and it’s been bad, and even thought there were a few select incidences of people being horrible I believe the Khmer people to be the most welcoming, warm and friendly people I have ever met and I will take the image of their smiling faces with me.. and everytime I am confronted with a horrible person, I will think of the Khmer.
So… there you have it… not a great story but a story nonetheless.
Battambang was okay but I wish we had have gone to Sihanoukville instead and been able to lounge around on the beach instead of writhing in pain and putting up with crap in my eyes. Maybe next time…
A Cambodian Learning Curve
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
When our 7 day Angkor pass ended we were supposed to head back to the School to teach English for two days and live and eat with the kids, but because I wasn’t feeling the best and slept for almost two days it took up the extra two days we would have had and we no longer had the time to stay the length of time Luckyman wanted us to. This made me feel quite guilty and I thought it would be a good idea if when we went back to the school that we didn’t turn up empty handed, so we stopped into a local "book shop", which is actually a stationary supplies store, and bought some writing books, English books and a box of pens to take with us. Luckyman was really upset that his "disciples" could not stay and teach for a few days but he seemed to understand why we were on a tight schedule.
When we arrived there were two girls from Canada already teaching a class, so we decided that we’d make ourselves a part of the class along with the kids and it went down well. It was actually kinda fun to sit with the kids and make jokes along with them. We all got to introduce ourselves and say a few things about ourselves too and all the kids loved the fact that they got to tell us all something about themselves. One girl took a particular liking to me because we both liked pink as our favourite colour. After a while it came time for Luckyman to take the Canadians to the rural orphanage school he had taken us to previously and left us to teach the class. We weren’t too sure what to do so we thought it would be best to just try and start from where they had left off and that happened to be a lesson on different flags of the world. So using their text books we taught the class about the flags from Australia, Germany, England, Spain, France, Italy and a few others and the kids loved getting the answers explained to them. Halfway through our class the rain started and we all had to move inside to avoid it. The rainy season had set in by this time and every afternoon at about 2 or 3 you can bet on the fact that for about an hour it’s going to pour down with torrential rain. So class had to be temporarily cancelled (all the classes are held outside).
I’d always wondered about the kinds of things the children learn in these English schools and visiting the school has opened my eyes to a few things. One, the kids actually WANT to be there as they feel it’s a stepping stone away from the poverty they are born into. Two, they rely solely on donations and volunteers to keep their doors open because many of the kids are orphans and take up permanent residence at the schools and three, a lot of the time it is Christian orientated, so many of the kids practice Christianity and not Buddhism. So while the rain was forcing a cancel to the class, the kids were inside in the library (a section of the main building with a few bookcases of books) reading… yes… these kids actually took it upon themselves to continue class by reading books from their donated library instead of using the rain as an opportunity to slack off… B was talking to one of the other volunteers in the kitchen, and I was sitting thinking about these kids. They want so much to climb out of their poverty that they dedicate themselves to mastering English and they’ll do anything to learn it. It was actually very impressive to watch a boy pick up a copy of War and Peace and sit there and read it of his own accord. Schools in Australia don’t even use War and Peace as a text in senior high school and here’s a boy who is only 13 years old, placing himself in the only corner with light coming through the window so he can see (there’s no electricity) and attempting to actually read this highly difficult piece of literacy. At first I thought it may have been for show, that the kids might have selected books with pictures, but when I took a closer look he was actually reading it, sounding out every word as he went along and repeating it to himself once he had the word down pat. I was in complete awe.
As I made sure all the kids were occupied with something I went back outside to the school desks to take a look at a text book and came across an open page in one of the younger girl’s notebooks… I shall transcribe it below because I feel it is important to understand something about these kids and about why they consider school to be so important… it reads as follows…
"…and by the way the people in my village say that for the girl when grown up No go to class Because family is poor and busy earn the money for family just they are stop study. So the women of Cambodia most of doesn’t knowledge. If the girl in my village who was studied in pouk high school is a lucky, if our girls can’t go to school it is a terrible waste. When girls are able to study they can be more alive then instead of hiding away. The women of Cambodia will have a voice and be able to speak out for themselves same for man too."
I was so struck by this piece of writing that I just had to inquire as to its origin. Apparently the children were asked to write a short essay on anything of their choice, and this is what this 14 year old girl had chosen to write about. From the mouths of babes. That paragraph, probably a short snippet of a larger essay spoke so many volumes about human rights and equality that I finally understood why these kids are so hell bent on being able to go to school. In their country, school is a privilege, not a right, and not just reserved for boys… they are starting to understand that they need into educate their girls too… for through knowledge, is freedom from poverty.
With my head filled with questions and my heart filled with compassion, the rain started to ease and it was time for us to head into the market to shop for some food for our lunch.
It was certainly an experience. The market is set up under whatever piece of cloth can be found and stitched together to make low canopies above muddy ground, and underneath all this sit women and children with a space dedicated to whatever they are selling. You can get virtually everything in these markets, from toothpaste to pig’s heads… anything you need. B and I paid for the ingredients to make our lunch and when we arrived back at the school the older girls took charge and got underway with making pork Lok Lak with rice and egg. The kitchen in the school consists of one small room at the rear of the building, with a pot on a mounted open fire and a few dishes and utensils. The girls are so mature and learn to be this way from a very young age as it is their duty to help raise younger children and help out the adults with the running of the household, so it was no surprise they cooked up a great tasting meal and afterwards we all sat around the table and appreciated it together. A very peaceful experience.
Eventually it came time for us to leave and because I was starting to feel a case of travellers gut coming on I thought it best we leave after the next class. I was sad to have to go but I feel I had learned more about the Khmer people at the school than I did anywhere else in Cambodia. A lot of the time Khmer’s think that travellers only want to hear about the Khmer Rouge times and how bad things were for them, but I want to know more about their daily lives and that’s what the school taught me. It sure was a really big learning curve and I was thankful for every moment of it.
By the time we had moto’d it back to the Miss Oud Dom Guest House I was so sick with Dehli Belly that the toilet became my friend for quite some time afterwards. This sickness would stick with me for over a week and a half, maybe more, and it would force us to miss our bus to Battambang, throwing our schedule out by days and not leaving us much time to see Viet-nam or Laos, but I would not trade having that market meal with those kids for the best 5 star steak in the world.
Float Away With Me
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
On our last day of our 7 day Angkor pass, we had virtually run out of options in the temple department so our legendary Tuk Tuk Driver Mister Seng An suggested we do a Tonle Sap river cruise to see the Floating Village and also head on out to the Land Mines Museum (which I will blog about later). Shocked that he didn't want to get off work early with a nice 8 bucks in his pocket, we accepted and he promptly took us to the riverside to buy our ticket. I'm glad we did accept too because it was great.
The whole village literally does float. Everything from houses to churches to basketball courts, everything is mounted on bamboo! It was about 10 bucks each for the boat hire, with which you get two "sailors", a driver and a guide to tell you about the things you see and you arrive in this little port town which is packed to the brim with these long boats. All the boats are actually jam packed next to each other along the riverside and to get one out they have to push and pull on the other boats to free their own... totally not up to safety standards and there was water in the bottom of ours the whole time but hey... are you really gonna let a little brown, unsanitised water get to you? Noooooo.
So we started our tour of the Floating Village which goes for about an hour or so and they take you right down the little river and out into the Tonle Sap which seems to spread for miles and miles. There are a lot of Viet-namese here at the Floating Village and unlike Khmer's they are fairly unsure of westerners and pretty much keep to themselves as they are considered unwanted buy the local Khmer culture. But given enough patience and time you can bet anything you'll get a smile out of at least one of them. You can tell the Viet-namese from the Khmer's by their distinctive dress. The Khmer's normally wear the traditional Krama (checked scarfe) and the Viet-namese have the pointed hats they're so well known for. Generally though, they seem to mix well, apart from the odd argument here and there, which is forgotten about within a minute or so.
I had heard a lot about the Floating Village from other travellers and about how they didn't think it was all it's cracked up to be, but I liked every second of it. If you can get past the beggars, as with anywhere else, you are sure to enjoy it. So... out we putt to the lake where our driver turns of the engine, looks at us gravely and says...
"That's it"
------pause------
"You swim back." he taunts.
------pause------
"Swim?" I say... "I can't swim!" I proclaim, to which he erupts with laughter.
"No no, I only joke you." he plays, "tour end here but we take you, you no swim."
Which wasn't entirely true, the tour doesn't actually end until you're taken to the Village gift shop. First, they get you off your rickety boat to show you a woman feeding some catfish (go figure), then they move you onto about two dozen caged crocodiles for you to gawk at, then they take you over to a bunch of fish tanks which seemed to me like a mini aqaurium of sorts showcasing the best and the worst of the River's inhabitants, then they shuffle you up to the roof so you can get a birdseye view of things which is actually quite cool, and finally, they strategically get you into that infamous gift shop where you ARE expected to buy something. And I did!
Anyhoo, the best thing about the Floating Village in my opinion is the methods of transport. You have long boats with lawn mower engines, you have larger tourist boats, you have speed boats (which are despised of by the locals to due the amount of capsises they cause), you have bamboo rafts and finally, amazingly..... you have pots. Uh huh... that's right... Pots. Among all these rather medium to large sized vessels I have just mentioned, you can find kids in pots. Kids floating in pots. They totally try and rip you for all the dollars you're worth but there's no way I was gonna miss a photo of a kid in a pot. Totally hilarious that they just float around in open water... in POTS!!... I love it! Anyhoo, check out the photo link because it's simply something you'd never normally get a chance to see otherwise.
All in all... a nice little retreat away from temple sightseeing and after we had gotten back on the Tuk Tuk this adorable little girl yells "HELLOOOOOO" and starts running alongside us with this beautiful white flower in her hand, waving furiously to us.... what a way to end a day...
The Road to Angkor
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
Well, the whole reason I wanted to come to Cambodia is of course Angkor Wat. And anyone who knows me knows that my complete obsession for history needs to be fulfilled. No longer do I have to get Richard to tape the History channel specials for me or get stuck into a text book, I can actualy see the real thing with my OWN eyes. Take my OWN photos and have my own experience. So when we arrived in Siem Reap and bought our 7 day pass for US$60 I knew we'd use every single day of it.
We decided to start off small and build up to the main attraction, Angkor Wat itself so for the first day we hired bike's for US$2 each. The proceeds of the bike's go back to the shcool we visited. Boy was it tough... we got through a few of the smaller temples first like Prasat Kravan and when we arrived at Banteay Kdei it pelted down with rain. Banteay Kdei was actually quite big and was very sprawled out. I think it's here on our first day that we spent SO much money on gifts than we did during out entire 7 day pass. But the kids were just so cute and inviting that you just can't resist buying whatever it they are selling, and in a country with no social security system, this is.. actually how they make their living. So when they're looking up at you with their huge brown eyes and pleading with you to spend a measly little dollar... who are you to refuse? So in total, I think I bought 3 books on Angkor, 2 Kramas (traditional Khmer scarfe), a zillion Post card sets, a kaftahn like shirt with an elephant on it, a few bracelets and a whole bunch of stuff I don't even remember. But there was something different about these kids... they were still kids. A lot of the time they get so consumed with trying to make a buck for their family that they forget they can goof around. But these kids were just adorable, and even if we didn't buy anything, they would come out with these drawings they've done of their homes or their families and offer them to you as a gift along with a grass woven bangle. I chatted with a 16 year olf girl who wished she had blonde hair and loves going to school... imagine that, a kid who loves school because they actually GET to go!!
The picture link that I'll post here isn't entirely in order... so just bare with me.
So anyway, after Banteay Kdei we headed across to Sras Srang where we watched some kids fishing in the moat with nets. They wade out into the water and drag behind them a net with holes to catch tiny little fish they'd put in a bucket. We decided to go down and help them gather the fish for a while and after we'd had enough we decided to see the ruins of Sras Srang temple, which overlooks the moat... littlew did we know that the kids were actually following us. They weren't trying to sell us anything, which was a nice change, they were just curious and when they realised we had digital cameras they could see themselves on they really hammed it up and we all had a great time!! Unfortunately it came time for us to leave and when we got on our bikes they came running after us waving to us and yelling out "goodbye, thankyou, good luck for you!" It's a common theme among Khmer's to wish you the best of luck, even if you've only paid a moto driver to take you up the road, you a sure to be wished good luck. It's common for Buddists to give to those less fortunate than they are, never lose your temper under any circumstances and always, always.. keep your manners.. so wishing someone good luck at the supermarket after they buy some gum is just a part of life, and they mean every bit of it.
I won't go into all the temples we visited because there is something like 36 of them (and yes, we had temple burnout by the end of it all) so I'll just mention a fewof the more memorable one's.
It's hard to pick a favourite temple but I did love Bayon, Ta Phrom (the one used in the movie Tomb Raider) and of course Angkor Wat.
Ta Phrom has these massive tree roots that have grown right over the top of the temple and as you're walking through, tiny purple butterflies flit past you and you feel like you're on the Tomb Raider movie set...
Banteay Samre was another favourite, not because it was spectacularly still standing, but because of the story our Tuk Tuk Driver/Guide told us about it. Way back when it was built there were many farms that surrounded the huge palace structure (which is in a huge cross formation an stretches for miles), but one farmer specialised in growing sweet cucumber and he would give some of his cucumbers to the King as an offering because the King just adored them. So one night, the King got a craving for these sweet cucumbers and left the palace alone to sneak into the farmers crop and help himself to some cucumbers. Little did ke know that the farmer was up guarding his crops from hungry cows and heard the King getting stuck into his cucumbers. So to protect it, he hurls out a spear which kills the King immediately, and the farmer heads off to bed. In the morning the farmer heads out to see what he had stopped from stealing his crops the night before when he is struck down with complete horror... it wasn't a cow he had killed.. it was the Kind!! So, not knowing what to do and fearing for his life, he bury's the King under his bed. Meanwhile, the palace has awoken to find the King missing, and for many weeks they wait for his return until finally it was decided that he was not coming back and the only thing left to do was to search for a new King. So the palace held a massive celebration in the name of the old King, and started the search for a new one. Now, the King, before he was accidently killed by the farmer, had an Elephant who he just adored, and the elephant was normally always with him during any formal occasion... so, because the elephant was the King's best friend, the palace decided to let the elephant choose the new King.
The farmer, who was in the crowd was struck with fear at this though and when the elephant stretched out it's trunk and touched the farmer, the farmer grew that full with fear he ran off into the jungle to hide, thinking the elephant had found it's master's killer. While he was gone, the palace erupted in jubilations, the elephant had chosen it's new King...
It took a little while for the farmer to come to terms with it, but eventually, he was crowned King, and the country lived happily ever after. No one knows if the elephant actually was pointing out it's master's murderer, but that farmer became one of the most beloved King's Cambodia has ever known.. they still love him even today and you can find paintings of him everywhere. Samre... in fact, means farmer.
Bayon is simply awesome. We managed to find the best guide in the whole complex and he was so knowleadgable on the history of Cambodia. It turns out that he studies with an Australian run school in Cambodia, so we had a special bond the whole time. he was simply great and he took us to every single important part of Bayon. He even took a few photos of me "kissing the Buddha" and translated when we had our fortunes read by the resident sooth sayer. Apparently, I have mor luck than I need, I am going to be very happy in life and very successful.. good enough for me. Bayon was even more memorable because afterwards we stopped for lunch where a little 10 year old boy befriended us and ended up giving us a tour of the surrounding temples inculding the Elephant Terrace... he was so hot that Byron gave him his hat and a drink and he was so thankful that all he could do was grin.
Preah Khan was another temple that was a little memorable, Byron liked this one more than me but we bought a CD from some disabled musicians who were actually very very good.
Banteay Srey wasn't all it was cracked up to be and it was made worse by two asshole people who refused to move so we could get a clear shot of the temple with it's moat.
Neak Pean was an earlier temple that used to be filled with water, 4 pools to be exact and it is formed in the shape of a cross... ironically, it was though to have healing powers and most people called it a hospital.
East Mebon is a temple that is full of massive stone Elephants and it used to be surrounded by water... it is located in the East Baray which is now dried up. It was used as a shipping port at one stage. It's hard to picture when everything is dry now and surrounded by jungle.
We watched the sun set at Phnom Bakheng which was comepletely un-inspiring. The walk up though is back breaking. It's built on top of a huge mountain.
West Mebon is located on an island in the West Baray and is still full of water. You access the island by boat and when we arrived the kids befriended us and tought us some khmer.
The North Gate is one of the entrance gates to Angkor Thom (which means city of Angkor) in which Angkor Wat (temple of Angkor) is located. It has huge Bayon like faces perched on top of the gate.
We also visited Bakong which is in the Roulos Group of temples located East of Siem Reap where again, it poured with rain. The bonus was that we got to have a water fight with the kids at the temple.
Finally, there is Angkor Wat. We arrived at bout 5am to watch the sunrise at Angkor. It rises from behind Angkor throwing it into a beautiful sillhouette. We spent a good three hours here and had already been the day before. It was a brilliant way to end our 7 days.
Going to school
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
Our first real day in Siem Reap after arriving was spent visiting the HSPCCO (Helper Students for the Poor Children of Cambodia Organisation). The Tuk Tuk driver that saved us from the previous day's chaos arrived at around 1o to take us to the school. It's about an hour's trip going about 30 k's.. if that.. on a bad, unsealed, pot holed road that takes you through Siem Reap's western countryside and the Tuk Tuk will take you as far as the main part of town, which is really a large covered market, and then he phone's up Mr. Noeum Samuth who arrives to meet you on Moto.
Noeum Samuth was born in 1959 and is also known as "Luckyman", and when I tell you his story, you will understand why. Back in 1976 when the Khmer Rouge was taking over the country and killing all of it's literate and learned peoples, Noeum took a hike into the jungle to search for some food for his family. Upon returning to his home, his mother, sister, brother and father (a former Governor and Commander of the former army) had been shot dead, execution style in the forest.
At he sight of such horror, Noeum and many others fled to Thailand where he was imprisoned in a Thai jail upon crossing the border. The other people with him weren't so lucky, many were killed by land mine's or sickness and only Noeum and 6 other people made it across with their lives. They were in the Thai prison for 8 months and during this time Noeum read everything he could get his hands on. Noeum tells us that he actually taught himself to read and write Khmer and 8 months later the French Red Cross, after hearing of his story, came to visit him in prison. Noeum says that it was a very difficult time because the Red Cross workers didn't speak Khmer and he didn't speak French, so eventually, he wrote a letter in Khmer which the Red Cross took away to be translated. And that's when it all started. The Red Cross felt such compassion for Noeum that they gave him a copy of the Bible hoping that it would offer him some answers his own religion seemed to be falling short on. Byron and I both cringed at this... and even though we both have "Christian" beliefs we do not think that religion of any sort should be pushed onto anyone who does not want it. But Noeum tells us that this was not the case.
The Red Cross never pressured him and even when they worked to get him released there was no alterier motive of having to switch religions. Noeum tells us he converted willingly after seeing all that the Red Cross stood for and the way they helped anyone and everyone. So after his release, and witnessing Noeum's courage and intelligence, the Red Cross decided to train Noeum as a Doctor and Denstist among many other things. By 1992 Noeum was working for the United Nations and in 1995 he volunteered to work in a refugee camp in Thailand after being forced out by the cCambodian Coup that was taking place. Finally, in 1999, Noeum was repatriated for the second time to Cambodia (the first time was in 1992 after he worked in a blood donation and dental program) where he remains, dedicating his life to helping poor and underpriviledged and orphaned kids all across Cambodia. All his work relies on charity donations and even though he funds most of these operations himself, including a denatl clinic and medical services he takes no revenue for himself.
So after we visited the first part of the school where the kids were being taught English by an engineering student who was volunteering for 3 weeks (we let the kids play with our camera's and spoke to them for a while) we all hopped on the back of his Moto (me riding side saddle) and headed out to the more remote orphanage school which was on such a bad road Byron and I had to alight from the Moto and walk most of the way. But the school's themselves are very basic. Fantastic, but basic. The kids who stay full time work in the yard and have chores to do to keep the place looking nice and every single child we met was more curious about us than anything else.
Noeum teaches Christianity in Khmer and English and showed us a copy of the Bible in Khmer and spoke to us of how his three voluteers Andrew, Ken and the engineer we met don't agree with his Christian preachings (believe it or not, Noeum is also a preacher). But he feels that if they want to learn then they should be given the opportunity and he does not descriminate against children who do not want to learn. Noeum however, is the most faithful Christian I have ever met and he even sung us some gospel songs as we drove along the countryside on the back of his Moto. He truly is an amazing man and a true inspiration to anyone who thinks they've had a hard life.
After Noeum took us all the way back to the Jasmine Lodge he invited us to come and teach some classes to the kids for a few days and told us we were desciples from God, sent to help him with his cause... that I thought... I couldn't argue with.. so we graciously accepted his offer and told him we'd see him in a week. I feel completely honoured to be given such an opportunity to give back to a community I seem to be taking so much from. It definately will be one of the most memorable experiences of my life to help out an NGO (non governmental organisation).. and here I was saying I'd never be a teacher!!!
TICKET FOR BAG!!!!
The day after we met the sliding boys in Phnom Penh we took the 7:30 bus to Siem Reap. We booked a little late so we got stuck with the worst seats on the entire bus.. right at the back, which has considerably less room than the rest of the seats on the bus.
We stopped for lunch at around 11:30 and when I got back on the bus, I found my seat had been taken over by ants.. so I sat in the isle until the stuardess moved me to another seat for the rest of the trip where I am quite positive I drooled on the man next to me, who, god bless him, didn't have the heart to wake me up to tell me. He probably felt sorry for me because the ants took over my seat for a free ride... and here I was paying a whole $9 for that seat!!
We arrived at the bus station in Siem Reap just after 1pm and getting off the bus took an unusual amount of time. There are so many beggars and Tuk Tuk drivers crowding around holding signs with your name (they make a deal with the Guest Houses back in Phnom Penh) that it's just impossible to move. When we finally did get off the bus we couldn't find our bags, they had already been offloaded into the crowd of people... which was really un-nerving. I managed to squeeze my way through them to my back and grab the handle, but before I could lift it a really persistent guy grabbed hold of the other end and started yelling at me in Khmer.
Naturally I can't understand him so I ignore him and pull on my bag, but he pulls back, holds up some piece of paper and yells "TICKET" at me.
"No" I say back at him, but he keeps pulling.
"TICKET.. YOU HAVE" he yells again...and by this time the people around us have closed in and there was nowhere to go...
"No ticket" I say trying to keep my calm. (Khmer's and Thai's alike consider losing one's temper to be a loss of face)
By this time I was getting worried.. he wouldn't let go of my bag and was trying to tell me that I should have recieved a ticket for my bag when I boarded the bus back in Phnom Penh.. but Í wasn't born yesterday and I decided to stand my ground..
"TICKET FOR BAG.. NO TICKET.. NO TAKE BAG!!!"" He yells at me some more...
By this time I was losing my own temper with him and wasn't going to be spoken to like that from him.. so I yell at him "LET GO!!!"
"TICKET" he shouts back at me.
"LET GO NOW!" I shout back...
It was about to get ugly when Byron steps through the crowd and pulls the guys hands off my back and lifts it up onto the table for me to get a better hold. It's really an intimidating sight when the avergae height of a Khmer (Cambodian) is about 5 foot and then suddenly a 6 foot something blonde muscly westerner throws his weight around and they all back off. Which is exactly what happened.
At this point a policeman had arrived to try and disperse the crowd... you really couldn NOT move and inch.. and I manage to push through, go to the first Tuk Tuk driver who wasn't yelling at me, point to him and say "YOU...". He got the picture.. nodded, and took us straight to the Jasmine Lodge. It was the most chaotic experience we've had so far and it could have ended in tears had I not stood my ground. It was lucky I did too because it's a complete scam.
They pull into the bus station and pretend they are waiting for a space to park, meanwhile the "ground" staff are unloading your bags and tagging them with their own little labels. So when you get off the bus into all the chaos, you can't find your bag, there are too many people to even step one step, they're all yelling at you to use their Tuk Tuk and when you finally find your bag they don't let you have it because you don't have the "ticket" you were "supposed" to get when you boarded the bus back in Phnom Penh, and considering the confusion of it all it's easy to see how people fall for it. Not me though...
It was such a relief to get to the Jasmine Lodge that we took the $12US a night room (argh) and settled in where we stayed for 5 nights.
Phnom Penh Sliding Boys
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
Phnom Penh is a crazy, dirty place. Beggars are everywhere and you feel like you are in 1st century Rome where rubbish was disposed of in the streets and where people defecate wherever they like, yet amongst all this filth there is still the Cambodian spirit. That huge welcoming smile that sucks you in, and those big brown eyes that make your heart melt. I haven’t liked Phnom Penh too much, there are a few great places to eat like the Café El Mundo and the Indochine 2 (which is also a guest house) and the Independence Monument (to mark the occasion when Cambodia gained independence from France in 1952) is great to look at and the Grande Palace is… well… Grande…but there is just something about Phnom Penh that make you want to get out.
The day before we left for Siem Reap we took a walk around the town intending to see all the great temples like Wat Phnom and the Grande Palace and were walking along the waterfront when we came upon a bunch of boys having the time of their lives. The river is accessed by a massive embankment from the ground which goes down in stages to where all the tour boats wait for passengers (there are stone steps) and the water is absolutely putrid. So here are the boys, obviously having nothing else to do, using anything they can find; cardboard, foam, plastic bags, to slide down the embankment on… like a massive slippery dip! They were having so much fun that I couldn’t resist capturing the moment. So down I went into the sludge and the filth of the Mekong and started snapping them as they slide down on their makeshift sleds towards me. Once they figured out what I was going they really started to perform and got the biggest kick out of seeing themselves displayed back on the camera’s LCD screen.
Take a look at the pictures because they were just so fun to be around and later on I even let them have their own go at taking some photos… It’s strange how you can communicate with the children a little better than you can the adults and in some cases they can even speak better English than the adults… a lot of the time French comes in handy when addressing older people (all the airport security spoke French so I got along fine, plus we had a refresher course when we met our Canadian friends Erik and MG on the Trek). But it all seems to simplify when talking to the kids. They don’t seem to over analyse everything they hear and you don’t try to over communicate things, which all evens out and makes for some great times. So after the slide we got going and decided we’d get some of the photo’s we took printed to give to the boys. So after we put them in to be processed we found the boys and told them to meet us by the river at 7 so we could give them the photos and I showed them the photo lab receipt to prove we were genuine.
We went to the Indochine 2 for dinner where we met a really nice English girl named Rosalind and chatted over a few beers and some wine. A street vendor with one arm even sold us some post cards. That’s another sight you get used to, people wandering around with a limb or two less than normal thanks to the land mines that dot the countryside. Princess Diana was a big influence on starting up a de-mining charity to help clear the countryside of the awful war tools. Most of the time they don’t kill if you step on one, they just maim. You lose a leg or an arm or your body or face is permanently disfigured, and you’re lucky if you get to keep your sight. Angelina Jolie is also a big ambassador for this cause, which to me is so important. Every second of being in Cambodia changes you in so many ways and when you see a little boy with one leg, blown from his tiny body by the force of a land mine... you’re just not the same, you see things from a different perspective. So we were only too happy to buy a few post cards, and he was welcoming of posing for a picture.
By the time we realised the time it was 10 past 7 we rushed off to the river front… unfortunately we couldn’t find the boys and figured they must have thought 7am. But most of the kids go to night school so they may have had to attend. Either way, we missed them and decided we’d catch them next time we’re in Phnom Penh (after we go to Siem Reap, Battambang and Sihanoukville). But enjoy the fun of the pictures anyway. We didn’t get to do the walking tour of Phnom Penh this time, but when we go back we certainly will and we’ll also look for the boys. There is also a place where you can go and eat and they have some kind of trivia night for charity which Rosalind told us about, so when we get back to Phnom Penh, well do that too.
The Killing Fields
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1&l=1&u=5&mx=25&lmt=5
Just over 30 years ago Cambodia was closed to all foreigners. The Khmer Rouge and the Pol Pot regime were taking over and a huge change was underway. Until February 1975 the Cambodian people had lived relatively peaceful lives. The main ingredient to Cambodian living is family, religion and food. Pol Pot and his regiments had entered the capitol Phnom Penh on New Years Eve where celebrations were already being had (Khmers celebrate such things by firing guns or any other weapons they have into the sky) so the entry of the Khmer Rouge made things so chaotic… the country barely recovered.
Pol Pot’s intention was to turn back time to “the year zero” and create an Indentured Agrarian society, free of all modernity. Within hours of take over, the Khmer Rouge had murdered anyone in cahoots with Lon Nol (who came to power when Sihanouk fled the country after screwing up relations with Vietnam and the USA) and forced men, woman, children, the elderly and sick to the countryside to undertake various forms of back breaking labour. If disobedience was observed in any form, those responsible were taken to camps to be executed… effective immediately, and pure exhaustion was not an excuse.
Over the 3 years, 8 months and 21 days of the reign of the Khmer Rouge close to 1 and a half million people were slaughtered in the name of “the year zero”. There was not only an ethnic cleansing of the minorities (Vietnamese, Muslims and Chinese), but a social cleansing as well. Anyone with the slightest bit of education was executed and this meant doctors, teachers and artisans, so disease set into the camps and thousands more died from ailments such as malaria and dysentery. Education and religion of any sort was halted and people were torn from their families. All forms of currency were abolished and there was no electricity or any form of transport that did not have 2 or 4 legs. All flights (except a daily flight from China, because they were supporting the KR) were stopped and Cambodia was locked down completely. In such a short period of time it’s hard to believe that such a horrific thing could happen.
With all of this floating through my head the day Byron and I visited the Killing Fields (15 mins outside of Phnom Penh) I didn’t really know what to expect. We paid our $2US entry fee and made our way inside the gate. The first thing you see is a massive monument and as you get closer you realise that thousands of human skulls are stacked wall to wall, floor to ceiling in glass boxes. You make your offering, take off your shoes and suddenly you are in a place of the dead. As I walked around the glass cabinets I wasn’t sure how to feel. All the skulls, jaw bones and clothes are organised by age. Anything from 5 to 60 can be seen and just as you’re wondering how real this all is, you see the stitches on the skulls.
During the 3 stages of life the stitches that join the plates that make up our skulls close and suture themselves according to what stage of life our bodies have reached. So when we are born and right through infancy and the teenage years, they are relatively open, during young adulthood and middle age they start to close up a little and during old age they close and smooth over. So as I am walking around looking at these skulls it occurs to me just how horrible this event was, and just how much it affected the way Cambodia is today. I hadn’t prepared myself for this, and even though I had read so much about what happened in the recent past, I could have not known that I would be overcome with emotion and have to leave. I just could not help myself. But seeing skulls of 5 year old children with big holes bashed into them was just too much for me and I broke down. And it’s not just the fact that people of all ages and ills were brutally murdered, it’s also that it was done by their own people. Khmers raped, pillaged, enslaved and murdered their own people. It really makes you think about how evil works. We, as westerners who have never truly known war in this lifetime, have a preconception that evil is reserved for others… others like the Taliban. But when you come to a place like the Killing Fields and you stand amongst the mass graves (that they left un filled after they exhumed all the bodies) and bear witness to the scars and breaks in the bones, your whole idea of evil flies out the window and you wonder whether evil is reserved for who we dub “the baddies” or whether it is in all of us. Are we all actually capable…deep down… of committing such things?
It all became too much for me walking around the graves so we returned to the gate where there was a gift shop and our hearts went out to a man that had had his leg blown off by a mine (which the Vietnamese laid after they raided and threw out the KR). Every single moment you are in a place like that you want to throw away every material possession you have ever had, you want to give every cent you have ever earned and you want to buy everything in that gift shop. We knew we couldn’t of course… but that’s what it feels like, so much anguish and heartache. Even thinking back as I write this now I am getting upset. There are so many beggars and it blew us away when a little boy came to us and didn’t beg for food or money as we expected… but for a pen so he could go to school... I think I almost cried again then. That little boy’s face will be with me forever. So when we got back to Phnom Penh, we stocked up on some pens and pencils to hand out.
After the Killing Fields our Moto Drivers took us to an underground military operated shooting range (they had to go underground a few years ago when the government decided it was a bad form of tourism, for a few dollars you can hire and M-60 and a couple of grenades and have your go at killing a cow or a few chickens). We didn’t really have a choice with this one. The Moto Drivers get commission for petrol and food from every place they take you, and if you end up participating or buying something then that commission is higher. So when we pulled into the shooting range we were shocked (but not all that surprised really) to find a bunch of Americans standing with guns in their hands and posing for photos with big stupid grins on their faces. Why is this so bad I hear you ask? Well… imagine experiencing everything I have just described, the emotion of it all (if you actually let it affect you or if you actually cared) and then put yourself in that image holding an AK-47 at the exact site it was used to execute innocent children. See how effing great you look then. Needless to say, Byron and I refused to condone this abhorrent form of tourism by participating and asked to be taken back to Phnom Penh where we slept for about 4 hours, emotionally drained.
Today, Cambodia is still recovering from the time of the KR and trials are still happening to bring those involved to justice. Yet it’s amazing just how warm and friendly the Cambodian people are. Everywhere you go you are greeting with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s true these people live in relative poverty, but you know… when it all comes down to it… they have back what they treasured most of all, family, food and religion. Even after it was ripped from their very arms by their own people, and through foreign help (funding of guns by the US and what not, and being “saved” then “damaged” again by the Vietnamese)… they are still the most warm and inviting people I have met thus far… and I don’t think that anywhere I go will come close to that. When comparing it to our way of life… if anything like that had happened in Australia… we would be even more Xenophobic than we are now of foreigners. Yet here, they know it all happened, they know who was responsible…but somehow… it’s all a little forgiven… but never forgotten. They just get on with it. They truly are the most admirable people.
The King of Something Hot
Okay.. so that's a title from a computer game that I bastardised from "Tropico: the king of somewhere hot." that we saw when we were buying our DVD's in Siam Square.. but you will see why below.
After we flew into Bangkok from Chiang Mai we checked into a hotel called Tong Poon which was close to Siam Square. We had decided that in the morning we would take a day trip to Lop Buri (pronounced Lop booree) where the famous Monkey Temple is and also on the way back from Lop Buri to Ayattuya (pronounced A-ya-too-ya), the old ancient capital of Thailand with more temples. Lop Buri was okay but the monkeys were crazy. They stole Byron's sunglasses and one of them scratched my hand (which now has little lumps all over it). You bought a bunch of seeds for 10 baht and the entrance fee was 30 baht, the temple is located right in the middle of the town on a small hill and the monkeys are EVERYWHERE... on the street amongst the traffic, on the traffic lights, on the rooftops and just all over the place stealing from the markets anything they can get their little hands on. When you feed them though, they are quite gentle and I was struck by just how human they actually are... they have tiny little fingers and can use thumb and forefinger as good as any human can and their expressions on their face are just so.. human. They also have social heirarchy, the younger monkeys obey the older one's and there are some dominant males that won't even let any monkey have any seed... bullies I suppose. They run and play like children and they groom each other. They also fight over their young, which was quite odd and a little hard to work out who the parent was. We visited a few other temples but decided to move on to Ayattuya at about 2:40.. and seeing as we had been accidently ripped off with our train ticket there (366 Baht for a one way ticket.. EACH) we made sure they knew we meant two PEOPLE instead of CLASS 2...which only cost 40 baht each this time. The train wasn't even any less enjoyable for less money.
Ayattuya was a little better and it was so much more organised that Lop Buri and for a tour of the temples for about 2 hours we paid 200 baht for a Tuk Tuk. At the first temple we arrived at we made an offering to the temple (which they were restoring because it housed one of the oldest seated Buddhas in Thailand) and were blessed by a monk. We dropped some money into a box, and you shrink to your knees, hands in prayer position and placed at the top of your forehead (the highest point of respect because the head is sacred), at which point the monk before us flicked some "holy water"over our heads and prayed for us. A truly beautiful experience.. it actually makes you feel happy and peaceful. Once we gave our donation and put our names on a roof tile a yellow band was tied around our wrists.. which is supposed to be worn until it rots off.. Mine rotted off the day we arrived in Phomn Penh (pronounced P-nom Pen) in Cambodia and Byron's rotted of thismorning. We saw some more temples (there's only so many of them you can take in before you become blase about them) before catching our train back to Bangkok where we had dinner at The Hard Rock Cafe.
Boy, what a night... We drank two bottles of wine between us and sang every song the band played because they were all western songs like Torn by Natalie Umbruglia, One way or Another by Blondie, Summer of 69 by Brian Adams and even a few Black Eyed Peas songs.. and of course.. it all ended with Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.. what else. A really great night.. we got so drunk that I actually think I was still gone the next morning. Here's where all the fun REALLY begins....
The day started out normally, we packed up our things from the hotel Tong Poon in Bangkok and even though we were running a little late on account of lack of sleep we met our cab driver from yesterday and he took us to a place where we could drop off our laundry and from there he took us to the Post Office so we could send some things back home. We wandered around Siam Square markets for a while and spent more money on clothes and DVD's and waited 20 Thai minutes for them to be made (in reality that was about an hour)... we rushed to have lunch because we had to pick up our laundry at 2 and leave for the airport at 3 so we could catch our flight to Cambodia. We had the worst lunch ever... some disgusting burger made with Buddha knows what and headed out the front to try our luck with a cab. When we got in he wouldn't turn on the meter and insisted we pay 70 baht, which was 20 too much.. so we demanded to get out... he drives around the front of the building.. stops.. and motions for us to leave the cab.. so Byron opens the door and BANG!!!!!.... Another cab slams straight into it!!!! Within minutes we were out of the cab and a policeman had arrived (they're on every corner directing traffic) and the other cabbie was yelling at our cabbie about Byron opening the door... it was all very surreal. We weren't yelled at once. We were yelled ABOUT.. but not yelled at. The policeman led us all to the cop shop and sat us all down.. it was very odd... I think that the other cabbie was probably in the wrong more than Byron because the cop was very very angry with him alone and I think it was because he had witnessed us trying to exit our cab, and this other cabbie had come flying up the inside and smashed into the door, tearing off his own mirror. We both stayed really calm though and just co-operated all the way. I knew both cab drivers would have insurance and I warned Byron not to sign anything if it was given to us and in the end... we paid them off... about 3500 baht for make it all go away. Our cab driver even took us back to our hotel. So for about 100 bucks we walked away from a car accident practically scot free.. but in Thai terms.. it was the most expensive cab ride ever!... so Byron really is... The King of Something Hot.
I was moaning cause I was moaning
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
Well, I still can't post any pictures to this site and we can't work out why. It seems to be impossible to find an internet connection that is faster than watching grass grow.
Anyhoo, I thought since I have a bit of time blog about our Trek into the jungle. It started off pretty great with a ride to the local markets for supplies, where I had to buy a pack for about $10AU because the ex-army pack I was given for the Trek broke before we had even left the city of Chiang Mai. After the market we headed off through the urban area and into the National Park where we were off loaded out little ute and where we were to begin our Trek.
In total, there was 11 of us to begin with, 3 guides; Mr. Ken, Mr. T and another guide (who disappeared about halfway through the first day) and 8 Trekkers. Byron and me, two Canadians MG and Erik, two Danes Lotta and Camilla and two whingeing poms James and Tom. Tom started moaning about the trek about 5 minutes into it after we had to wade through some shin deep water and mud and James had about a zillion injuries he was worried about making worse. James it turns out has THE worst luck of anyone I've ever met. In his lifetime, he's been taken to court when he was a security guard for GBH, his face had been mauled by a dog as a kid, his knees are shot from playing rugby and on the first night at our first stay with the hilltop tribe name Ka-ren he was stung by a scorpian!! Makes for some great entertainment... not to mention he got practically eaten alive by mozzies (but we pretty much all did).
So anyhoo, the first day was pretty hard going and Mr. Ken took us to a "Thai Restaraunt"which was actually just some fried rice we ate along the creek side. Our accomodation was pretty much million star though, bamboo huts with roofs made from banana leaves with some mozzie nets and pillows the size of a back cushion for a bed. I practically died getting there, the pack got heavier and heavier and by the time we made it to the waterfall I could no longer carry it because we were practically going vertical to get to the hilltribe camp. When we finally made it we all rushed for something to drink because we had run out of fluids a couple of hours previous and I was craving coke like an inmate craves a woman. During the night we all got to know each other more and sat around this communal table and ate dinner which consisted of something I can't remember with a whole lot of pineapple.
In the morning breakfast was served and we headed out again at about 11am after farwelling our hosts (after we all bought hand made gifts) and got to walk through a seemingly empty village. All the children travel to another village and go to school there during the week and come back home to their own village on the weekends to work in the rice fields with their families. The tribe we stayed with on the first night was relatively small and was home to 7 families in total. The oldest member we were told, was about 75 years old which is amazingly old considering the standards of living. It's basic but not putrid. They have pit toilets which you squat over (making number 2's bloody difficult) and cold showers which are made of pvc piping and a pump system with a tap for a shower head and a bit of tarp for modesty. I think it was a bit of a shell shock for all of us at this point because until then we had been staying in fully equipped backpacker places. So with this all on our minds we began our trek again which was vertical for the first 20 minutes or so. Now, don't get me wrong, 20 minutes doesn't seem like a very long time does it? Well... try telling yourself that when you've had only a few hours sleep and had walked all day through the mountains with a pack that feels like a second person on your back.. you won't be saying that for very long.. after that.. 20 minutes is a lifetime of exhaustion.
It did get a little easier there for a while though and because we were pretty high up you could see other tribes perched on the mountaintops... but the air was thin and even though it was a shorter trek than the day before it was much harder. I found it increasingly difficult and fell behind most of the time, but it's not such a big deal because there is always a guide in front and a guide behind. By lunch time I was having a really hard slog of it and the rest of the group had trooped off ahead leaving me with Mr. Ken. I can honestly say that it was the hardest physical exertion I have ever experienced and as we walked.. or should I say.. as Mr. Ken walked and as I dragged my feet... LITERALLY... I could feel my emotions swelling inside me and my legs were turning to jelly... when I could see no one could see back at us I dropped to the ground and had a good old cry as my body shaked with sheer exhaustion.
"please, let me take your bag."" Mr. Ken offered to me...
But if I let him take my bag for me that would have been the easy way out and I knew that I would, in a sense, lose face amongst everyone else if I was seen without my pack, because no one else seemed to be having the same problem I was. The Danes were incredibly athletic and headed the group almost every part of the way and as all this went through my mind, not caring that I was sitting in mud or that my hair was greasy and my skin and clothes covered in sweat... I knew I had to get myself and carry onto where everyone else was already stopping for lunch. It was a huge effort though, and when it came time to cross the creek I had to ask for help from Mr. Ken to cross as my body just wouldn't let me go any further without someone steadying me. When I finally made it to the lunch camp, I dropped to the ground and fell asleep.
Incredibly, this was all worth it because after lunch we headed into the largest Ka-ren village in all of North Thailand and we got to visit a school. The kids are just so beautiful and so shy all at the same time. When they saw themselves played back on the camera's LCD those smiles they wear all the time just got so much bigger and I found myself overwhelmed with happiness. That.. by far.. was the best part of the whole trek and completely worth every bit of physical and mental exhaustion I endured a few hours before. The school is not a conventional school, the children work. They make gardens and pick plants to make herbal medicine and dig holes to cement into place a swing set. They play soccer and sweep the ground and the toddlers play games with teachers. The school is actually a product of Christian missionaries who donate churches and pay for schooling if they convert to Christianity... and in a nation where Buddism is the main religion.. I do not fully agree with this seemingly peaceful blackmail. It's good they are able to be schooled, but I do not believe anyone should convert to anything in order to get it.
After the school, which was hard to leave, we trekked a short while more to where we would stay for our second night.. into Burma. Our hotel was another million star rating with the bonus of a huge waterfall!! Instead of sleeping 8 to a room this time it was a more private 2 to a hut and after we set up our "rooms"we all gathered around for dinner and some DRINKING GAMES. We had so many rules going that it was hard to remember to keep them all and Mr. Ken brought in his own rules. The main game was Fuzzy Duck, mixed in with a bit of Bottles, with side rules of not being able to use the hand you write with for ANYTHING, not being able to point, having to say "eat" instead of "drink" and having to tap your glass before taking a swig. If you broke any of these you not only had to "eat" but you also had to suffer "Mr. Ken's rules" which was made up of having some charcol rubbed on your face in any manner and style Mr. Ken chose. The last one's up were me and Byron and the whingeing poms and we laughed about every single thing there was to laugh about.... including how the poms were "moaning because I was moaning" about everything. All in all, it was a really great night.
The morning was a little quiter, the poms had hangovers, Mr. T and Mr. Ken were probably a little bit tipsy still and Mr. Ken never ate breakfast due to his hangover... the Canadians and Danes had gone to bed early and Byron and I.. as usual, came out hangover free!! So after a night of Chiang Beer and Sang Sem whiskey we started our trek agian, and this time people seemed to have more go.. the trekking was easier and mostly flat going and we had the expereince of an elephant ride and a bamboo raft ride to look forward to.
The elephants were first. It was about an hour long and you rode on them in two's with a driver. It was completely awesome and I recommend it to anyone... especially because I got to actually sit on the elephant's head and drive it myself.. his name was Oompai and he was THE naughtiest elephant out of all of them, refused to do what he was told and constantly wandered off into the jungle to grab whatever foliage he would get his trunk on. I almost fell off though when he bent down his head.... so gently yet so dangerous too. Just as we arrived back at the elephant camp it started to pour with rain and these are the conditions we had to do our bamboo rafting in. At first I didn't want to go but I got over myself and decided to go.. which was a good decision because it was really fun. Small rapids and easy going currents.... makes for a very nice float through the Wang River. (I will post photo's when I can work out how, I can't wait for you all to see them!!)... This... was the end of the line.... what an incredible experience. I have never been on a jungle trek before but the things you get to see and do I would not swap for anything. And I guess all those bloody bushwalks my Dad forced me to go on as a kid actually helped me make it through without dying.. although I DID want to on that second day.
When we arrived back at the BMP there was a small disaster of not being able to find our air tickets back to Bangkok, but we eventually did.. said goodbye to everyone and left Chiang Mai with the greatest sense of accomplishment and a bit of sadness that we had to go back to grubby Bangkok... what a day we were in for....
You put a toilet seat pillow on my head and tell me I look stupid
http://au.blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-a6zLd1M9bqXYFufi8VqDDClTLg--?cq=1
Hey all,
Well, 5 days ago we headed off on our bus trip north to Chiang Mai for our Trek... and boy, what a trip. We had to be at the TAT (Tourism Authority of Thailand) at 8am so our Travel Agent could prepare us for our trip so we got up at 6 to make sure we gave ourselves enough time to get into main Bangkok and onto the bus. It took a while to flag down a cab from our HI but eventually we got one and thought that everything would be fine. Oh how wrong we were.
We must have gotten THE worst cab driver in all of Thailand because he took us WAY out of the city and then back in.. and we knew we were being literally "taken for a ride" but could do absolutely nothing about it and ended up paying a zillion Baht in tolls... you pay to get on the highway and you pay to go along it and then you pay to get off it.. "no problem.. 40 Baht... you pay". So then he takes us to the bus station instead of the TAT and we had run all the way back to it with 15 kilo packs on our backs because it was 8:10 and the bus was leaving at 8:40...
We finally found our TAT (there are about 5 different one's all along the same stretch of road) and our Agent was there waiting for us with a cab to take us to the bus.
The traffic was horrendous and our cab driver was running late for another pick up so everyone was in a rush... we get to the bus stop (which actually turned out to be another travel agent which issued the bus tickets. We're sitting there patiently and there were these "bus attendants" (like flight attendants) who just didn't seem all that right...
"Is that a man?" I whispered to Byron...
"I don't want to know." he says..
But they were SO convincing I just wasn't sure... until they spoke to us... then it was VERY clear that these pretty "women" weren't women at all and I had to contain the moment of my enlightenment with stifled laughs.
So anyway.... this whole time we had been feeling like this whole trip that we had paid for was a complete scam because we were being taken from place to place.. the next stop was a tiny little backwater bus station under the highway bridge where we were told to board a bus that wouldn't start and without a/c... and until someone told us otherwise we sat and sweltered.
Eventually we were shifted onto the RIGHT bus and off we headed to Chiang Mai.. by this time it was 12pm and we were supposed to have departed at 8:40am. Everything seemed to be going great and our ripped off feeling was starting to lift when the bus broke down at a place that had no name.. we were stuck there for something like 2 hours and the bus driver himself took off his drivers uniform and was in there fixing the bus himself. Now, you'd think that fixing a bus would require a great deal of mechanical knowledge right? Guess again.. turns out an empty water bottle is the solution for just about anything in Thailand... because that's what they used to put the a/c back together so the bus could continue its journey! Bloody brilliant!!
The bus ride took so long that I'm pretty sure we started to get delirious because on the last stretch Byron and I got the giggles and carried on like a pair of 11 years olds and amused ourselves with the "toilet seat pillows". (would attach pics but this internet is crap and wont let us) Eventually though, we DID make it to Chiang Mai.. only 5 hours late!!!
We were past being tired and decided to visit Chiang Mai's (pronounced Chang My) night markets where we got to see Australia lose 1-0 to Italy through a time penalty.... and if I cared about soccer I might have been upset...lol... at midnight we'd seen enough and had to get up early to start our Trek so we headed back to the B.M.P. (Backpacker Meeting Place)... bit of a mistake.. we almost were attacked by a dog that sounded mightly rabid... so at the last count.. I have Malaria and came very close to contracting Rabies as well.. next up.. Denghe Fever.
