Friday, February 20, 2009

Ladies and Gentlemen, Cambodia!

So sorry, I whole heartedly apologize for the absolute lateness in my blog. Sam and I have been on a whirlwind, albeit eye opening, trip through the eastern half of Cambodia. Without going into the gory details of where we went, where we stayed and what we ate, and the sights- Angkor Wat, The prison on Street 21- just pull out your Cambodian map and look up Siem Reap, Battambang, Phonh Penh and now, Sihounkville. We planned this final stop to recharge the batteries and are currently shacked up in a small attic room with a Thoth roof, a bed on the ground and mosquito net. We are overlooking Otres beach and plan to read as much as possible. We couldn't be happier. It is the simplicity, the comfy circular deck chairs, the hammocks that gently sway with the soft breeze and the absolute call of the crystal blue water that that melts all the worries of the past 5 days, or in some cases- for Sam at least- the last two years of strenuous work.
My impressions of Cambodia are probably not unlike the multitude of people and some cases-yourselves who have visited this fine country. The people are genuine and every time I smile on the street, on a motorbike, or at shop, the smile back is ten folds greater that what I had dolled out. It seems odd, after so much brutality in their recent history, that smiles would be a muscular response, but my absolute attraction to this place starts with the people and their smiles.
This is a developing country in every sense and connotation of that phrase and it has taken both of us to remember certain aspects that come with a developing country. For one, things that normally should work, usually do, but take another 5 minutes to get started. Pictures of vehicular transportation usually are iconic or imaginative creations of what we are really traveling in and the amount of dead time is unimaginable.
Dead time can be explained by our fearless transportation driver from Phenom Phenh to the bus station who took us 10 meters from the place we were standing to another area and the told us to wait here for " a second. " He then proceeded to sit, more like sprawled out on a chair, sporadically talking to others within the shop while we stood there sheepishly, unsure what our next move would be. Conversation ceased after another 5 minutes and was replaced by the dogged hot look a person gets from sitting in a chair in the hot sun. Yet, in spite of the heat, the driver continued to stare blanky as his walkie talkie chattered away, no doubt someone telling him that we should get the people to the station soon. It was not until Sam went over and asked what the deal was that he sprang to attention and told us with a huge smile "yes." Not sure if this was the answer we wanted but considering "yes" pretty much is the holy grail of responses here. We took this as a positive step.
For example:

We need to send our clothes home, what happens if they are lost?
yes,- combined with that illuminating Cambodian smile
Thanks, you have quelled any worries about losing our stuff.

Dead time. Where the itinerary says that the trip will take four hours when in reality plan for seven. I think this is where traveling comes to life. Everything, every minute detail is different and inexorably frustrating, but in the end, glorious to triumph in getting your task- procuring an extra towel- completed. How great is that feeling, one that is definitely lost back at home.

So far, every mode of transport whether it was the harrowing glide through the river country side in our- not sure this is up to any regulations- boat.
Side story this boat to Siem Reap to Battambang was the highlight thus far. Seeing the country was spectacular, although the trip got off to an inauspicious start. The picture of the boat on our ticket looked like the QE2, yet when we arrived the actual description could more resemble planks of wood held together but what can only be described as a hope and a prayer. As for resassurance, the life vest above our heads were wet, sparking my ultimate confidence that at least the life vests worked- as we were later found out, it was so shallow in some parts of the river, that wearing a life vest would be more than ostentatious. As for the engine, I feel any construction worker would have felt right at home as the engine sounded like a 25 motorcycle salute. It came to no one's surprise when the engine broke down, not once, not twice, not three times, but a grand total of 5 times.
I am not here to bemoan the lethal precision of utter inefficiency, because that is expected here and most cases the problem is fixed- India will be much more I suspect.

What is more important about Cambodia is the children aspect. They are everywhere. On our boat ride, it was incredible to see such squalor, such absolute poverty. Garbage looked as if it were seaweed washed up after a terrifying storm or just part of the natural vegetation. Yet within this destitued, came a cry of happiness as our boat passed their thatch, rickety huts on the banks of this hot, scorched river. They came by ones, twos and sometimes whole troops to wave at us. They boogied and danced on the shores, flipped into the water, blew us kisses. It seemed that we were in some perverse rendition of "its a small world after all," and these kids were the robots. What struck me was the genuine smiles, waves and pure happiness that came from the kids. This was juxtaposed to their parents or adults who, rightfully, looked through us as some transparent entity not worth the time. It was incredible, waving for 9 solid hours-although Sam and I must admit that it almost got to regal, the waving aspect that is- to these kids.
When you move into the tourist areas, it becomes a much bleaker scene. Scores of kids 5-14 work the streets begging for money, hawking books, bracelets, and other junk. The hard truth is that they are products of some seedier game run by some money grubbing adult behind the scenes. Their English is impeccable, but it is contextual. They learn the language to make sales. They rattle of random facts regrading your country of origin- for Aussies, it is always G'day mate and your prime minster is Kevin Rudd. Many beat you to the punch in your excuse not to buy. You have no chance to get in a word edgewise:

you want to buy this dangling thing for 1 dollar
no...
you can hang it on you xmas tree; if you don't have an xmas tree, you can hang it on your bed; if you don't have a bed, you can hang it on your window; if you dont have a window you can hang it on your ear.

At times, it is overwhelming and truthfully quite depressing. I try to engage in conversation, but it is forced and the pull for them to haggle another foreign tourist is much to great to avoid for an extended periods of time.

We really are enjoying our time. Sam has already professed that her worries have disappeared and she can finally relax. That was the main attraction to coming here first and I think as the great clairvoyant statesman W stated "Mission Accomplished."

Now I must return to the bungalow, dead time awaits.

2 comments:

mom said...

This is your adoring mother! Outstanding description. Felt I was there and am glad to hear the boat story on the other end of the ride!

Anonymous said...

Nice words hitch. Hope you guys are loving it.