Hello from Phu Quoc!
Phu Quoc is a small island just south east of the Cambodian coast line. We are thoroghly enjoying ourselves here. The beaches are gorgeous: white sand, blue waters, palm trees. Phu Quoc is a bit quiet, lots of honey mooners and couples here. But Jayne and I have managed to find everybody under the age of 30 on the island to hang out with, which is about 15 good people.
Habac, the owner of the Eden restaurant and bars (who invited us to Phu Quoc) is decorating the Phu Quoc Eden for Christmas. So, this morning we woke up and decorated the huge Christmas tree he had sent in. It was a bit funny, an American and a Canadian decorating a Christmas tree while wearing bikinis, on a small Vietnamese island... What fun travel is.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
War Remnants Museum
I highly recommend this museum to everyone who visits Saigon. It is shocking. Especially as an American, I could not believe the things I saw! Massacres, soldiers killing children, soldiers pushing people out of airplanes, torture, the horrible affects of agent orange dioxin. I could not believe what I was seeing. I don't know too much about the Vietnam war, but I had a much different impression of it. I kept thinking wow, this museum makes Americans look horrible, but I guess the Americans were horrible. Shocking.
There is a huge photo exhibit in the museum. After looking at all the photos there is a book that visitors can sign and write something in. We were looking through the book reading people's comments. Similar to the comments I saw at the Tuol Sleng Genocide museum, there were lots of things like: "Never let it happen again." "Peace on earth." Why even write this? I really don't think there will ever be peace on earth, unfortunately. Anyway, there was one comment that absolutely enraged me. It was written by an Irish guy and it said: "Great museum! It really highlights the stupidity that runs through America as a whole." This comment made me so INCREDIBLY mad I wrote a huge response underneath it. The things that the Americans did in Vietnam were horrific, and I just learned that. In my opinion, people are people whether they are Irish, American, or Vietnamese. We trust what we are taught. If someone tells us, this is how it is when we are 12, we generally believe them. I think to say that stupidity runs through America is just breeding intolerance. Why do we have wars? Intolerance is one reason. So to say something like that is intolerant and ignorant. ARG!! What we need is tolerance! Tolerance and truth!!
There is a huge photo exhibit in the museum. After looking at all the photos there is a book that visitors can sign and write something in. We were looking through the book reading people's comments. Similar to the comments I saw at the Tuol Sleng Genocide museum, there were lots of things like: "Never let it happen again." "Peace on earth." Why even write this? I really don't think there will ever be peace on earth, unfortunately. Anyway, there was one comment that absolutely enraged me. It was written by an Irish guy and it said: "Great museum! It really highlights the stupidity that runs through America as a whole." This comment made me so INCREDIBLY mad I wrote a huge response underneath it. The things that the Americans did in Vietnam were horrific, and I just learned that. In my opinion, people are people whether they are Irish, American, or Vietnamese. We trust what we are taught. If someone tells us, this is how it is when we are 12, we generally believe them. I think to say that stupidity runs through America is just breeding intolerance. Why do we have wars? Intolerance is one reason. So to say something like that is intolerant and ignorant. ARG!! What we need is tolerance! Tolerance and truth!!
Saigon!
Welcome to Vietnam!
I have been badly neglecting my blog. So much to write! Here goes:
I arrived in Saigon about 7 days ago. On the bus from Phnom Penh I met a Canadian girl named Jayne and we hit it off, so decided to travel together throughout Vietnam. It has been really fun to travel with someone else. A much different experience than what I have been doing so far. It is really nice to have a friend to talk to about what you see, feel, and hear while traveling. Also it is much more social in general. It is cheaper as well, since we split everything such as our hostel room, etc...
Saigon is absolutely fantastic! I love this place so much, and am definetally going to live here for an extended period of time someday. The Vietnamese people are incredibly nice and generous. I am so confused because while in Sihanoukville people said: oh my gosh, Saigon is horrible, you will get ripped off, it is dangerous, etc... But I guess everyone just has to find out for themselves, because I love this place.
It was off to a bit of a rough start in Saigon. Jayne and I settled into our room and then stepped outside to find a good place for dinner. The second we did this a 6 year old boy comes peddling up to us on his tricycle and runs over our feet and screams over and over to us: "You're white!! Fuck you!!" Wow, quite the shock that was for us. We were a bit confused, who in the world taught this little boy such horrible things!! Anyway, we walked down the street a bit more and see a 4 year old boy smoking a cigarette through his nostrils!! Even more of a shock! So, the first few minutes in Saigon were a bit rocky, but since then they have become much better.
A few highlights of the week:
-The zoo: We got to take pictures and play with two orangutangs! We also watched a snake ingesting a rabbit.
-Cu Chi Tunnels: I have very mixed feelings about these. The Cu Chi tunnels are this massive underground tunnel network where Vietnamese soldiers lived while the Americans had occupied the land above and were bombing it and napalming it, etc... There are three levels of tunnels and they stretch for hundreds of kilometers, all the way to the Cambodian border! We had a guided tour all day from this Vietnamese guy who fought in the war and I think went a bit mad. This made the tour even more strange. At the tunnels we got to walk through (more like crawl through) about 100 kilometers. It was incredibly claustrophobic and hot and sweaty in the tunnels, but quite interesting to go through. The thing was, the whole Cu Chi complex has been turned into a bit of an amusement park which I did not appreciate at all. I thought it was a bit grotesque. For example, if you want you can go to the shooting range they have put above the tunnels and fire and AK47. Also you can take you picture with a US tank, and watch motorized manequins of Vietnamese soldiers make bombs. I felt very uncomfortable there because everything just seemed to be a photo opportunity. In a place which I am sure has seen alot of death and suffering, this didn't seem right.
-Ben Thanh market: This is in the heart of Saigon, one of the biggest markets. At there market there is everything from food stalls, coffee beans, souvenirs, tailors, clothes, shoes, jewelry, cosmetics, fish.... You name it, Ben Thanh has it.
-Water puppets: We went to a water puppets show last night. Water puppets is a traditional Vietnamese kind of theater. There is traditional singing and music which accompany the marionettes. It is a good look at Vietnamese tradition and culture.
-Motor bikes: Wow, I thought Phnom Penh had alot of traffic. Yeah right. Phnom Penh traffic is childs play compared to Saigon. It is completely mad. The number of motorbikes here is over the top. The streets are a continuous stream of bikes. Hiring a moto driver to go around town is an absolute must. A wild ride is an understatement!!!
I have been badly neglecting my blog. So much to write! Here goes:
I arrived in Saigon about 7 days ago. On the bus from Phnom Penh I met a Canadian girl named Jayne and we hit it off, so decided to travel together throughout Vietnam. It has been really fun to travel with someone else. A much different experience than what I have been doing so far. It is really nice to have a friend to talk to about what you see, feel, and hear while traveling. Also it is much more social in general. It is cheaper as well, since we split everything such as our hostel room, etc...
Saigon is absolutely fantastic! I love this place so much, and am definetally going to live here for an extended period of time someday. The Vietnamese people are incredibly nice and generous. I am so confused because while in Sihanoukville people said: oh my gosh, Saigon is horrible, you will get ripped off, it is dangerous, etc... But I guess everyone just has to find out for themselves, because I love this place.
It was off to a bit of a rough start in Saigon. Jayne and I settled into our room and then stepped outside to find a good place for dinner. The second we did this a 6 year old boy comes peddling up to us on his tricycle and runs over our feet and screams over and over to us: "You're white!! Fuck you!!" Wow, quite the shock that was for us. We were a bit confused, who in the world taught this little boy such horrible things!! Anyway, we walked down the street a bit more and see a 4 year old boy smoking a cigarette through his nostrils!! Even more of a shock! So, the first few minutes in Saigon were a bit rocky, but since then they have become much better.
A few highlights of the week:
-The zoo: We got to take pictures and play with two orangutangs! We also watched a snake ingesting a rabbit.
-Cu Chi Tunnels: I have very mixed feelings about these. The Cu Chi tunnels are this massive underground tunnel network where Vietnamese soldiers lived while the Americans had occupied the land above and were bombing it and napalming it, etc... There are three levels of tunnels and they stretch for hundreds of kilometers, all the way to the Cambodian border! We had a guided tour all day from this Vietnamese guy who fought in the war and I think went a bit mad. This made the tour even more strange. At the tunnels we got to walk through (more like crawl through) about 100 kilometers. It was incredibly claustrophobic and hot and sweaty in the tunnels, but quite interesting to go through. The thing was, the whole Cu Chi complex has been turned into a bit of an amusement park which I did not appreciate at all. I thought it was a bit grotesque. For example, if you want you can go to the shooting range they have put above the tunnels and fire and AK47. Also you can take you picture with a US tank, and watch motorized manequins of Vietnamese soldiers make bombs. I felt very uncomfortable there because everything just seemed to be a photo opportunity. In a place which I am sure has seen alot of death and suffering, this didn't seem right.
-Ben Thanh market: This is in the heart of Saigon, one of the biggest markets. At there market there is everything from food stalls, coffee beans, souvenirs, tailors, clothes, shoes, jewelry, cosmetics, fish.... You name it, Ben Thanh has it.
-Water puppets: We went to a water puppets show last night. Water puppets is a traditional Vietnamese kind of theater. There is traditional singing and music which accompany the marionettes. It is a good look at Vietnamese tradition and culture.
-Motor bikes: Wow, I thought Phnom Penh had alot of traffic. Yeah right. Phnom Penh traffic is childs play compared to Saigon. It is completely mad. The number of motorbikes here is over the top. The streets are a continuous stream of bikes. Hiring a moto driver to go around town is an absolute must. A wild ride is an understatement!!!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
My New Boyfriend
I've found a new boyfriend in Saigon. I know, it looks like he is much more into his juice than me, but I think he really likes me....
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Rants and Raves
Ok, enough of my rants and raves. See you in SAIGON!!
And goodbye to Cambodia, I will surely be back.
Probably, Some Good Advice
I usually take advice from the guidebook and people with a grain of salt. For examle when I arrived in Nepal people told me: ''No matter what you do, DON'T EAT THE STREET FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'' After 5 months, I left Nepal a conneiseur (sp?) of the street food. I ate street food everyday and loved it, also I never got sick from it. Some people in Siem Reap told me: "Phnom Penh is horrible!! You'll get robbed if you ever walk alone!!!" Well, as it turns out PP is one of my favorite places so far, and I have not been robbed ever. Now people tell me: "Oadvice which I think is a good one though, especially in Cambodia and parts of Vietnam, is to stay on well marked pathes and not to wander off to jungle areas. The reason being is landmines. There are many of them in both places (millions), and while it might cut h my god!!! HO CHI MINH!!! HORRID!!! People will slice open your back pack with a razor and steal everything!!!" As you can see, you take these things with a grain of salt.
There is one piece of advice, though, that I think is good to remember and stick to when in Cambodia and parts of Vietnam. This is: don't leave well marked pathes and don't wander off into the jungle. The reason being landmines. Cambodia, especially, is full of them (millions.) Yes, this may cut down on spur of the moment jungle treks and adventures a bit, but I think a cut in crazy adventures is well worth it if you save your arms and legs from being blown off.
There is one piece of advice, though, that I think is good to remember and stick to when in Cambodia and parts of Vietnam. This is: don't leave well marked pathes and don't wander off into the jungle. The reason being landmines. Cambodia, especially, is full of them (millions.) Yes, this may cut down on spur of the moment jungle treks and adventures a bit, but I think a cut in crazy adventures is well worth it if you save your arms and legs from being blown off.
Markets Galore
A woman in one of the Phnom Penh markets sells assortments of pickled vegetables and other miscellaneous and unidentifiable (by me) things. 
In Phnom Penh, a woman cuts and cleans a freshly dead chicken. Surrounded by, other dead chickens. 
Vegetables! Always fresh, always crunchy, always bright. A spread of vegetables at the main market in Battambang. By the way, the morning is always the best time to go to the markets because this is when all the women do their shopping.
America... Is It A Dirty Word?
This "issue'' is something I have been dealing with since the beginning of my travels, actually, even before this journey started. People told me: ''The world hates Americans, be careful.'' Before leaving I even thought about telling people I was Canadian if the reaction to "American'' was as bad as people said.
At the beginning of my trip I would sort of skirt the issue with other people I met, hoping I wouldn't have to tell them where I was from. But now, I have no problem with telling people I am American, and I would not tell people I am from anywhere else, as that would be a lie. I get different reactions from different people. The locals of wherever I am (Nepal, Cambodia, etc...) seem always to be awed by the fact that I am American. They say something like, "Oh very nice country! Very rich country! Very big building! Land of milk and honey!'' I sort of laugh at this and ask them why they think this. I don't really know how to explain that yes you can make alot more money, but you also pay alot more.
Then, there is the reaction from fellow travellers which is a bit less enthusiastic than that of the locals. People are never mean about the fact, after all I can't help where I was born, but at times I can detect a hint of sarcasm or a trace of annoyance as if I am responsible for all the things going on in the world to do with America. At times it seems as though people think I was the one who sent the troops over to Iraq. This, at times, can be frustrating. Even though it is frustrating, I do, and will continue to say I am from America. The other day a German guy told me I was a cool Canadian. I thanked him, and quickly corrected him, telling him that I was American.
Now, don't get me wrong, I am not one of those crazy flag waving patriotic people in any sense of the word. I know nothing about the politics or business of America and don't really care too much anyway. But I do think people from other countries need to know that all Americans don't just stay in their own state forever and rot in a corner. I think alot of people don't realize that some Americans actually do know where Africa is, and that Africa is not a country but a continent.
Since I am American, and say it, people always seem to tell me their "horrid American" story. Greatttt.... This is always good. Maybe it will be about the California girl who thought the language of Holland is "Amsterdamish" or the Southern guy who thought that Danish was just a pastry and not a people. Or maybe it was the fat drunk guy from Colorado who was grabbing the prostitute and saying dirty things. Yes, these stories can sometimes be amusing. But I also want to ask: "Ok, well what am I supposed to do about that? I doubt you know what borders Montana and the capital of Florida." Ok, it is a bit different, but I habout ear alot of these stories and they get a bit annoying.
''American'' is a bit of a dirty word on the travellers circuit. I can see two sides to this. At times it can be difficult for me to say I am American when surrounded by a bunch of people from Europe who are bashing Bush and the war. People can look at you differently. I am American so my parents must be rich. I am American, so I am probably getting 500 dollars a month to travel. Some people can't believe it. "You are American??'' they say. ''You actually left your 4 years of continuous college and job opportunity and money and friends and state to TRAVEL!?'' Some people seem incredulous.
On the other hand, I always tell people I am American because I think the world should know that not all people from the States never leave and are racist and drink six packs all day and get wasted at frat parties. One thing I have come to despise is when I don't know something about the world that other people seem to think is common knowledge. I feel like it is my duty, as one of the very few young Americans who seem to be traveling around this area, to show people that I am not stupid and I know things about the world. Basically I want to be a good example of what an American can be.
''American'' is a bit of a dirty word at times. Maybe not necessarily dirty, but stigmatized. Americans have a reputation, and that reputation is hard to break, but I will do it. As frustrating as it may be, I also get rather annoyed at the people who are so firm with this stereotype of ''stupid Americans.'' Some people are so vocal about this stereotype and are not willing to come to grips with the fact that America has 300 million people in it, which is quite alot, and there are so many different types that make up that 300 million. So, in my opinion, people who joke and stereotype all Americans as ''stupid and ignorant'' are just propagating the immaturity and ignorance that they are so against.
So, I call all Americans who have the means to travel! Meet the people of the world! Prove that you know that a Danish is not just something that will add an inch to your waistline!! Prove that you know that a person from Holland is not a 'Hollandaise'! I challenge everyone to go out and prove it, and change this damn stereotype one person at a time!
(Picture: The picture was taken by a young homeless girl I met on the riverfront of Phnom Penh. She took a whole bunch of really cool pictures. When I told her I was from the US she searched out the flag and took a picture of it. There are flags from 100+ countries flapping in the wind along the river front of PP.)
Spiders...
I know I said I really wanted to try fried spiders, a somewhat expensive delicacy here in Cambodia. I went to a "bug booth'' in Battambang and tried other things, not including spiders as the vendor told us that it was not spider season... Well, apparently it is spider season in Phnom Penh because I just walked by a HUGE bucket of fried tarantulas. They were really massive. Just expand your hand to maximum size and thats how big they were. I know I said I wanted to try them, but seeing them... well... um.... maybe later.... I wondered where they collected the hundreds of tarantulas to fry. I hope that its no where in the vicinity of my hotel room....
Delay to Saigon
Well my intention was to be in Saigon (aka Ho Chi Minh City) right now, but plans change. I left Sihanoukville this morning and there was madness at the bus station in Phnom Penh so I decided to stay another day in PP which is just fine with me. So, tomorrow (I think) I will be going to Vietnam. As for today and tonight, I am going to thoroughly enjoy another day in PP, one of my favorite places.
As for Vietnam, I have no idea what I am going to do there. I was initially thinking to backpack from Ho Chi Minh to Hanoi, but I have been hearing news of really bad rains and typhoons hitting central Vietnam at the moment. So, instead I may spend a month in Southern Vietnam, especially in the Mekong Delta where I think the weather will be better. But really, I have no idea.
As for Vietnam, I have no idea what I am going to do there. I was initially thinking to backpack from Ho Chi Minh to Hanoi, but I have been hearing news of really bad rains and typhoons hitting central Vietnam at the moment. So, instead I may spend a month in Southern Vietnam, especially in the Mekong Delta where I think the weather will be better. But really, I have no idea.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Sihanoukville
Updates:
Hello!
I am in Sihanoukville, Cambodia right now. I came here about a week and a half ago thinking I would stay 3 days and keep moving, but I have been here a week and a half now!!
Sihanoukville is a very nice place on the South Coast of the country. There are some really beautiful white sandy beaches, palm trees, blue waters, the whole tropical experience. (Including some stinging jelly fish, be careful!) The beaches are a bit enchanting, and it is difficult to leave but I think I am ready to get a move on. Today I got my Vietnam visa and am probably going to catch a bus to Ho Chi Minh city tomorrow or the next day.
This and That:
-For all people interested in the "sex tourism" business, Sihanoukville seems to be the place to be. I am currently reading a book called "Sex Slaves" about the trafficing of women in Asia and it is really strange to see the words on the pages being acted out right infront of my eyes. I really can't believe it at times. The book focuses more on the main customer market for girls being Asian men, but Sihanoukville seems to be a place for Western men to have the Cambodian girls. I have been to many of the night scenes around town in the last week with some friends from my guesthouse. Some, near the more red light district areas, are really quite shocking for me. We went to one place and I was the only Western female at the place. Nothing wrong with that of course, I am used to that by now. But the only customers at the place were men between the ages of 40 and 70. The girls who work at literally every bar/club in the city are called "taxi girls," a nicer name for prostitute I guess. At all the places you see a young Cambodian girl (my age or maybe younger) with a very big fat white guy with gray hair who could be around 65 or 70, and is definetally 3 times the size of the Cambodian girl. At times, a sight like this is almost comical until you realize what the daily life for one of these girls is like.
-One thing I was surprised about was how out in the open sex tourism is here. In the morning, sometimes I will sit outside my door and relax on the patio area. If you are up in the morning you will see the taxi girls emerging from rooms to go home.
-Do the girls like it? I was quite shocked to hear that many men believe that the girls actually like doing this work. I admit, probably a few do. But having sex with 10 different guys a week does not sound like fun to me. HIV infection is very high among these girls, and many also take a drug called "yaba" which I think is some sort of methamphetamine type things. They take yaba so have energy to stay up all night, every night. Alot of the girls are realllllyy almost grotesquely skinny, which makes me think they take alot of drugs. Anyway, I was talking to some guys from Holland who are my neighbors at the guesthouse. It was their opinion that the girls really liked what they do, and if they didn't want to do it, they could do something else like sell shrimp on the beach. I absolutely, could not disagree with them more. I don't think the girls like it, I don't think it is a good life, I think it is demeaning, they are likely to get STDs and HIV, they are probably treated badly. And yes I suppose they could go work on the beach, but the people who walk around the beaches selling bracelets, massages, manicures, shrimp work all day, morning to night, and maybe make a few bucks. On the other hand, the girls work one night, and have one guy, and they make 10 or 20 dollars. That is alot in Cambodia. Then, if they get addicted to yaba, they are stuck.
Being around the girls and the bars I can see why guys would think the girls like their job so much. The girls are young, very pretty, and they know how to flirt with guys. The girls go around to all the guys and flirt with them and try to get the guys to take them home for "boom boom." It really seems like it would inflate a guy's ego quite a bit, and the girls are good actresses and know how to make it seem like they are having fun. This whole scene reminds me of high school a bit...
Anyhow, enough of that. My point is, Sihanoukville is rife with Western sex tourism which is a really strange business.
Recommendations:
GST Guesthouse: This is a really fantastic guest house. It is right across from Occheuteal beach, one of the most popular beaches. Also it is a really good place to meet other travellers and backpackers. A very social meeting place. My room is $4 a night, and I have my own bathroom, TV, and fan. Highly recommended.
See you Vietnam!!!!
Hello!
I am in Sihanoukville, Cambodia right now. I came here about a week and a half ago thinking I would stay 3 days and keep moving, but I have been here a week and a half now!!
Sihanoukville is a very nice place on the South Coast of the country. There are some really beautiful white sandy beaches, palm trees, blue waters, the whole tropical experience. (Including some stinging jelly fish, be careful!) The beaches are a bit enchanting, and it is difficult to leave but I think I am ready to get a move on. Today I got my Vietnam visa and am probably going to catch a bus to Ho Chi Minh city tomorrow or the next day.
This and That:
-For all people interested in the "sex tourism" business, Sihanoukville seems to be the place to be. I am currently reading a book called "Sex Slaves" about the trafficing of women in Asia and it is really strange to see the words on the pages being acted out right infront of my eyes. I really can't believe it at times. The book focuses more on the main customer market for girls being Asian men, but Sihanoukville seems to be a place for Western men to have the Cambodian girls. I have been to many of the night scenes around town in the last week with some friends from my guesthouse. Some, near the more red light district areas, are really quite shocking for me. We went to one place and I was the only Western female at the place. Nothing wrong with that of course, I am used to that by now. But the only customers at the place were men between the ages of 40 and 70. The girls who work at literally every bar/club in the city are called "taxi girls," a nicer name for prostitute I guess. At all the places you see a young Cambodian girl (my age or maybe younger) with a very big fat white guy with gray hair who could be around 65 or 70, and is definetally 3 times the size of the Cambodian girl. At times, a sight like this is almost comical until you realize what the daily life for one of these girls is like.
-One thing I was surprised about was how out in the open sex tourism is here. In the morning, sometimes I will sit outside my door and relax on the patio area. If you are up in the morning you will see the taxi girls emerging from rooms to go home.
-Do the girls like it? I was quite shocked to hear that many men believe that the girls actually like doing this work. I admit, probably a few do. But having sex with 10 different guys a week does not sound like fun to me. HIV infection is very high among these girls, and many also take a drug called "yaba" which I think is some sort of methamphetamine type things. They take yaba so have energy to stay up all night, every night. Alot of the girls are realllllyy almost grotesquely skinny, which makes me think they take alot of drugs. Anyway, I was talking to some guys from Holland who are my neighbors at the guesthouse. It was their opinion that the girls really liked what they do, and if they didn't want to do it, they could do something else like sell shrimp on the beach. I absolutely, could not disagree with them more. I don't think the girls like it, I don't think it is a good life, I think it is demeaning, they are likely to get STDs and HIV, they are probably treated badly. And yes I suppose they could go work on the beach, but the people who walk around the beaches selling bracelets, massages, manicures, shrimp work all day, morning to night, and maybe make a few bucks. On the other hand, the girls work one night, and have one guy, and they make 10 or 20 dollars. That is alot in Cambodia. Then, if they get addicted to yaba, they are stuck.
Being around the girls and the bars I can see why guys would think the girls like their job so much. The girls are young, very pretty, and they know how to flirt with guys. The girls go around to all the guys and flirt with them and try to get the guys to take them home for "boom boom." It really seems like it would inflate a guy's ego quite a bit, and the girls are good actresses and know how to make it seem like they are having fun. This whole scene reminds me of high school a bit...
Anyhow, enough of that. My point is, Sihanoukville is rife with Western sex tourism which is a really strange business.
Recommendations:
GST Guesthouse: This is a really fantastic guest house. It is right across from Occheuteal beach, one of the most popular beaches. Also it is a really good place to meet other travellers and backpackers. A very social meeting place. My room is $4 a night, and I have my own bathroom, TV, and fan. Highly recommended.
See you Vietnam!!!!
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Bugs!! (Crunchy...)
Fried cockroach? Fried grubs anyone?
This is the whole bugs/snakes/birds/frogs stall. They seemed to have everything except spiders, which is what I was looking food. Notice the two bowls full of snakes on the bottom right hand side. Next to the platter of yellow things (to it's right) is a platter of peeled fried frogs on a skewer. 
Learning to Weave
At the scarf "factory" - a few looms underneath a stilted house in the countryside. This woman is the owner.Coming Up
I have spent a wonderful week in Phnom Penh, but it is time for me to get moving to the next location. I met a girl in Siem Reap who told me there was nothing to do in Phnom Penh... This is probably the farthest thing from the truth I have ever heard! There are endless things to do, one of the best being to simply walk around and soak up PP life. The people, the jobs people do, daily business, markets, food stalls, buildings, animals, and a million other things. Life here is fascinating! I am leaving tomorrow but I am positive I will be back to Phnom Penh!
Next stop: I am leaving tomorrow to Sihanoukville, a beach town on the south coast of Cambodia. I will then travel along the south coast eastward toward Vietnam. I have been consulting the Vietnam map recently and have realized that it's much larger than I had initially pictured, so I will probably cross over into Vietnam in the next week or week and a half depending on how fast I move through the rest of Cambodia that I want to see.
Anyways... the only thing I know for sure is that I am going to Sihanoukville on a bus at 7:15 tomorrow morning! See you there!
Next stop: I am leaving tomorrow to Sihanoukville, a beach town on the south coast of Cambodia. I will then travel along the south coast eastward toward Vietnam. I have been consulting the Vietnam map recently and have realized that it's much larger than I had initially pictured, so I will probably cross over into Vietnam in the next week or week and a half depending on how fast I move through the rest of Cambodia that I want to see.
Anyways... the only thing I know for sure is that I am going to Sihanoukville on a bus at 7:15 tomorrow morning! See you there!
The Tooth
"MASS GRAVE OF 166 VICTIMS WITHOUT HEADS." I stare into the muddy pit. One-hundred and sixty-six. I play with the number in my head. How many is that? How much space does one hundred and sixty six bodies take up? One hundred and sixty six seems like a big number. I move my toes around the ledge of the pit. Wiggle my fingers. Feel my lungs breathe in air, feeling the space one body takes and try to imagine it multiplied by one hundred and sixty six. One hundred and sixty six seems like alot.
I'm hyper aware of my feet methodically crunching the gravel trails that wind through the pits that were used as mass graves by the Khmer Rouge. This is the killing field where thousands of Cambodians were taken for the sole purpose of execution. Thousands of men, women, and children were shot, beaten, bludgeoned, buried alive and hit against trees here. The place is eerily silent, even though there is a faint breeze the trees or grasses don't seem to rustle. No birds chirp. No frogs croak. Its just the chunch of my boots, of my living body, moving through these green fields of shattering death.
I'm staring at a small alter, on it are bits of bones that have been found after the main memorial of skulls was constructed. Forgotten bits and pieces of people. A broken piece of a jaw, a fragment of tibia, a few crumbling ribs. There is a tooth lying amidst these bits. Its a molar. It has turned a shade of coffee brown from years buried in a pit. I stare at it for five minutes. Its just a tooth. I clench my own teeth together, feeling my jaw muscles tighten. The wind gusts again, but nothing seems to rustle. I put my index finger out and push the tooth. Its real, I am assured. I stare at it a bit more, unblinking. My right hand, which seems to have a mind of its own picks the tooth up. I hold it in my palm and stare at it some more, as though I've never sen a human tooth before. I run my fingers over the curves and canyons on the top of the tooth. Feel the jagged and pointy root on the otherside. I twirl it in my fingers and feel the weight of it in my hand.
This tooth was, at one time, attached to a jaw with other teeth, which was attached to a skull, attached to a head, attached to a body. But most of all, this tooth was attached to a life. I try to comprehend whtat this means. This tooth was attached to a life, a life like mine. Still holding the tooth, I think about the life that used to be attached to this tooth. Was the life male or female? Young or old? What passed over the life's tooth? I think about the tooth's first months in the world. It's mother probably nourished the connected life with her milk. Milk must have flowed lovingly over the tooth. This tooth must have chewed alot of food in it's life time. What was the favorite food of the tooth's attached life? Did the life like Cambodian curry noodles and amoc fish? Or did the life prefer bamboo sticky rice and salted pork? What sorts of foods did this tooth chew? Did the tooth's life have a favorite pho stall on the streets of Phnom Penh? Did it like sweets and desserts? Did more coffee or tea flow over the tooth? Did the tooth's life take care of it's mouth? How many hundreds of times did the life carefully brush this tooth, to preserve it's smile?
I ponder thes questions while feeling it's weight. All of the suden, I have a better idea of how much one hundred and sixty six is. It's alot. It's an immeasureable amount of lives. One hundred and sixty six molars just like this one. Dozens of questions to ask about each tooth, each life. I start to get a better feeling about how much one hundred and sixty six is. But what about 2 million? Two million... I try to think of two million teeth like this one. The number is so large, I don't know how to visualize it. Two million molars. Two million favorite foods. Two million despised foods. Rivers of tea must have flown over these teeth.
I place the tooth back on the alter. From this one tooth I now understand the massive scale of genocide. I now realize what genocide takes away: life. I now understand death. What the death of one person means. What the life of one person is. This single brown molar has made me understand more about death, murder, and genocide than the miles of news bulletins I've read on CNN, Fox, NBC at the bottom of the television screen. "One million dead." "Reports of 100,000 murdered." "Ethnic cleansing." But those bulletins meant relatively nothing to me. Numbers. Figures. Statistics. Letters. Words. Moving from right to left. "One million people dead..." That seems like alot of people, I would think to myself, and continue on with my daily business. But now I understand, at least a little bit more. I don't know what a million or 2 million people is. But I know what one is. There was a life attached to this tooth. A life cut short by brutal execution. This molar showed me what is meant by death, and what is meant by loss of life. I still can't visualize 2 million people, but I can visualize one. And to be able to visualize one, is all that matters.
I'm hyper aware of my feet methodically crunching the gravel trails that wind through the pits that were used as mass graves by the Khmer Rouge. This is the killing field where thousands of Cambodians were taken for the sole purpose of execution. Thousands of men, women, and children were shot, beaten, bludgeoned, buried alive and hit against trees here. The place is eerily silent, even though there is a faint breeze the trees or grasses don't seem to rustle. No birds chirp. No frogs croak. Its just the chunch of my boots, of my living body, moving through these green fields of shattering death.
I'm staring at a small alter, on it are bits of bones that have been found after the main memorial of skulls was constructed. Forgotten bits and pieces of people. A broken piece of a jaw, a fragment of tibia, a few crumbling ribs. There is a tooth lying amidst these bits. Its a molar. It has turned a shade of coffee brown from years buried in a pit. I stare at it for five minutes. Its just a tooth. I clench my own teeth together, feeling my jaw muscles tighten. The wind gusts again, but nothing seems to rustle. I put my index finger out and push the tooth. Its real, I am assured. I stare at it a bit more, unblinking. My right hand, which seems to have a mind of its own picks the tooth up. I hold it in my palm and stare at it some more, as though I've never sen a human tooth before. I run my fingers over the curves and canyons on the top of the tooth. Feel the jagged and pointy root on the otherside. I twirl it in my fingers and feel the weight of it in my hand.
This tooth was, at one time, attached to a jaw with other teeth, which was attached to a skull, attached to a head, attached to a body. But most of all, this tooth was attached to a life. I try to comprehend whtat this means. This tooth was attached to a life, a life like mine. Still holding the tooth, I think about the life that used to be attached to this tooth. Was the life male or female? Young or old? What passed over the life's tooth? I think about the tooth's first months in the world. It's mother probably nourished the connected life with her milk. Milk must have flowed lovingly over the tooth. This tooth must have chewed alot of food in it's life time. What was the favorite food of the tooth's attached life? Did the life like Cambodian curry noodles and amoc fish? Or did the life prefer bamboo sticky rice and salted pork? What sorts of foods did this tooth chew? Did the tooth's life have a favorite pho stall on the streets of Phnom Penh? Did it like sweets and desserts? Did more coffee or tea flow over the tooth? Did the tooth's life take care of it's mouth? How many hundreds of times did the life carefully brush this tooth, to preserve it's smile?
I ponder thes questions while feeling it's weight. All of the suden, I have a better idea of how much one hundred and sixty six is. It's alot. It's an immeasureable amount of lives. One hundred and sixty six molars just like this one. Dozens of questions to ask about each tooth, each life. I start to get a better feeling about how much one hundred and sixty six is. But what about 2 million? Two million... I try to think of two million teeth like this one. The number is so large, I don't know how to visualize it. Two million molars. Two million favorite foods. Two million despised foods. Rivers of tea must have flown over these teeth.
I place the tooth back on the alter. From this one tooth I now understand the massive scale of genocide. I now realize what genocide takes away: life. I now understand death. What the death of one person means. What the life of one person is. This single brown molar has made me understand more about death, murder, and genocide than the miles of news bulletins I've read on CNN, Fox, NBC at the bottom of the television screen. "One million dead." "Reports of 100,000 murdered." "Ethnic cleansing." But those bulletins meant relatively nothing to me. Numbers. Figures. Statistics. Letters. Words. Moving from right to left. "One million people dead..." That seems like alot of people, I would think to myself, and continue on with my daily business. But now I understand, at least a little bit more. I don't know what a million or 2 million people is. But I know what one is. There was a life attached to this tooth. A life cut short by brutal execution. This molar showed me what is meant by death, and what is meant by loss of life. I still can't visualize 2 million people, but I can visualize one. And to be able to visualize one, is all that matters.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Angkor Wat
This has nothing to do with my previous stories, but here is a picture at Angkor Wat the most awesome temple. The sun was just rising and the day was beginning to get hot, so lucky for me most of the big tourists groups were heading back to town. The place is stunning. I loved to think about life in the temple, and the people who built it (this must have been some damned hard work!) Floating Village
Here is a picture of one of the floating villages on the Tonle Sap lake. These are some of the most amazing things! These are the actually houses that float and are tethered to one place. In the more shallow places the houses are on tall stilts. But there are also alot of house boats in the sense that there are houses on the canoes. I wouldn't mind living a few months like this to see what life on the lake is like. Riverfront
This is on the Phnom Penh Riverfront. One of my favorite areas of the city. On one side of the street is all the swanky restaurants and bars and nightclubs. On the other side is the river, where people come into harbor their literal house boats, wash in the dirty water, and sleep on the sidewalk. This is one curious little girl who wanted a tattoo from me. This picture was taken by another one of the street girls, who had a blast taking aroundmy camera and photographing people and places on the river. Tats on the Tonle
Me, sitting on the river bank of the Tonle Sap, the best place to meet some really interesting people. This is the 10 year old girl who was the most charismatic 10 year old I think I have ever met. I gave her 2 "tattoos." This one, and one on her hand. Her mother is in the background. Her mother is 29 years old. They both sleep outside in the riverfront area. She was the first in a long line of street children to recieve tattoos from me. PP Recommendations thus far
Here are some recommendations reviews for some things in Phnom Penh:
Genocide museum: I will do a more complete review of this later when I have a long block of time to write. This is a really good museum, but prepare to be more depressed than you have ever been. The museum has been pretty much preserved the same way the Khmer Rouge left it... Cells, iron shackles still in place, gallows, torture devices, iron clubs and murder weapons. This is a good museum to see, so everyone is aware of the attrocities that went and and still go on everyday.
Capital Guesthouse: This is where I have been staying here in PP. It is simple but cheap. I decided to splure and get the $4 per night room with the bathroom inside, instead of a shared bathroom. It is decent... if you are not going to spend much time in your room, which I don't. Plus: they have mosquito nets you can put up in the room. Minus: The reception staff can be a bit snippy at times, but whatever.
Deli Cafe: This is a nice little cafe I found on Sihanouk Blvd. (I broke my vow of no restaurants since being in PP by the way.) It is a place that only locals go to, and is not in any guide book, but is very nice. They have all traditional Khmer, Vietnamese, and Chinese foods, especially really good noodle soups. A good place to go for breakfast to get an iced coffee and a bowl of noodles... The same stuff they sell on the streets. A bit more expensive than the real street for because you get to sit inside and relax away from the hustle and bustle. Good coconut bubble tea, and good fish congee.
Friends: This is a realllly nice awesome restaurant. The prices are pretty cheap for such a nice place. Most of it is tapas, so make sure you get a few things to test. It is across from the National Museum. Also, you can eat your heart out for a good cause. The place trains ex-street kids so they will develop a marketable skill. Most of the wait staff and cooks are "students" learning about the restaurant business.
Seeing Hands Massage: I indulged in a $5 massage today. It was for a good cause!! What can I say! I think there are a few locations, but I went to the one near the river front. All the trained masseurs are blind. I got a Japanese style massage, and it was good!! I told her to do it "strong" and she definetally did it strong. All the money goes towards helping the visually impaired Cambodians. A good way to support something, while indulging in a great massage at the same time.
Genocide museum: I will do a more complete review of this later when I have a long block of time to write. This is a really good museum, but prepare to be more depressed than you have ever been. The museum has been pretty much preserved the same way the Khmer Rouge left it... Cells, iron shackles still in place, gallows, torture devices, iron clubs and murder weapons. This is a good museum to see, so everyone is aware of the attrocities that went and and still go on everyday.
Capital Guesthouse: This is where I have been staying here in PP. It is simple but cheap. I decided to splure and get the $4 per night room with the bathroom inside, instead of a shared bathroom. It is decent... if you are not going to spend much time in your room, which I don't. Plus: they have mosquito nets you can put up in the room. Minus: The reception staff can be a bit snippy at times, but whatever.
Deli Cafe: This is a nice little cafe I found on Sihanouk Blvd. (I broke my vow of no restaurants since being in PP by the way.) It is a place that only locals go to, and is not in any guide book, but is very nice. They have all traditional Khmer, Vietnamese, and Chinese foods, especially really good noodle soups. A good place to go for breakfast to get an iced coffee and a bowl of noodles... The same stuff they sell on the streets. A bit more expensive than the real street for because you get to sit inside and relax away from the hustle and bustle. Good coconut bubble tea, and good fish congee.
Friends: This is a realllly nice awesome restaurant. The prices are pretty cheap for such a nice place. Most of it is tapas, so make sure you get a few things to test. It is across from the National Museum. Also, you can eat your heart out for a good cause. The place trains ex-street kids so they will develop a marketable skill. Most of the wait staff and cooks are "students" learning about the restaurant business.
Seeing Hands Massage: I indulged in a $5 massage today. It was for a good cause!! What can I say! I think there are a few locations, but I went to the one near the river front. All the trained masseurs are blind. I got a Japanese style massage, and it was good!! I told her to do it "strong" and she definetally did it strong. All the money goes towards helping the visually impaired Cambodians. A good way to support something, while indulging in a great massage at the same time.
Curious People
I have figured out the formula for attracting a nice array of very interesting, strange, unique, and odd people in Phnom Penh. Here is what you do:
Step 1: You must be by yourself. Being one person alone is very much more inviting for people that if you are with someone else.
Step 2: Go to the riverside area in Phnom Penh and watch life go by.
Step 3: Have a very inviting look about you, and talk to anyone who tries to engage you in coversation.
The formula is simple, just sit by yourself on the the ledge to the Tonle Sap River along the riverfront. I have been doing this for the last 3 hours and have had some very interesting, fun, hilarious, sad, weird, and depressing stories to tell.
I had just finished a massage, and was in high spirits. I was strolling around the streets, enjoying the Cambodian breeze whipping around my hair. I decided to sit down on the river's ledge to watch life go by, which never ceases to be boring.
There was a woman with a child about 8 or 9 about 10 feet from me. The girl was very eager to talk to me and practice her English. I small talked with the young daugher for a while. The mother and daughter were homeless, and had all their posessions in a few bags. Two Cambodian young guys came up and sat next to me. They asked if we could talk, and I said sure. The guys looked like Mormons, very well dressed and clean cut, but with a strangly mischevious air about them. I chatted with them for a while, and then noticed the homeless woman and daughter behind them trying to get my attention. "NOO!!!" they mouthed. "Bad boys! Don't talk!" Hmm... I wondered, what are they, the Phnom Penh mafia or something? Then one of the guys took out a Bible. "You like Bible?" he asked me. "No." I replied rather bluntly. More women gathered around behind the guys so they couldn't see them. The women and girls continued waving to me and mouthing for me not to talk to them... They didn't seem too harmful, I thought maybe they were some sort of missionary... but maybe that was just their disguise. The homeless women and girls sat down near by and motioned me over to sit with them. I said goodbye to the guys and went over to talk to them. About 5 mintues after I had moved, the guys came over and asked if I would meet them tomorrow. "No, I don't think so," I replied, again, rather bluntly. They looked at each other, and quietly consulted one another. "Do you hate us?" they asked me. "No," I replied, I just don't want to meet you. "Oh, ok." Then they left.
For about an hour I sat and talked to the homeless women and children. There was one mother with a one year old boy, naked from waist down. She had hardly any teeth left. She was 26 years old which was "old" in her opinion. Then there was the woman and girl I had originally been talking to. The mother turned out to be 29, and the daughter was 10. (HOLY!! she had her when she was 19!) The mother looked alot older than she really was and was missing a bunch of teeth as well. The daughter though, she was a character!! Incredibly charismatic, spoke very good English, a real fire cracker type of girl. A hilarious sense of humor, very compassionate, excited about life even though her circumstances seemed far from ideal. From the hours of conversation here is what I learned about the two: They sleep every night in the riverside area, usually on the grass. The girl's mother has no job, and can't get a job because she has no marketable skills. The girl's father is no where to be found, and I don't think she even knows him. The girl goes to school (I think), at least some times.
I asked all about their lives and what they do everday. They eat rice. Just rice because it's cheap. They have been homeless for about 3 years now. Sometimes at night, boys that huff paint come and steal things from them. the daughter relayed all this to me with excitement and seemed completely unphased by all these hardships. They mother and daughter both admired my turquoise rings I had on from Nepal. At this point the mother took the dangly plastic turqoise colored earrings out of her ears and placed them in my hand. I was so touched by this gesture. I at first said I could not accept them, but the mother insisted in her broken English. She really wanted me to have the earrings. The charismatic pair had nothing but a few bags with all their worldly possessions in them, and the mother gave me the only jewellry she owned.
After a while, we gathered a crowd of a bunch more street girls, homeless mothers, and child booksellers who roam the streets trying to sell knock off books to foreigners for a few bucks. Most of the children were crawling on me like I was a jungle gym. I had a small naked one year old baby in my lap and was bouncing him up and down. I lifted him off me just in the nick of time to miss a heavy stream of pee.
One of the mother's most prized possessions seemed to be a collection of about 10 pictures. They were all wrapped in plastic and she showed them to me carefully. All were of the mother and daughter a few years ago. The mother looked about 10 years younger in the pictures thanshe did now. I looked into her eyes in the pictures. They were full of youth and hope. I looked at her eyes now, they seemed dazed and more empty. From various snippets of the conversation and from the pictures I had a feeling some thing bad has happened in the last 2 years to her. I had a premonition that she mayhave become a prostitute to support herself and her daughter.
She presented me with one picture very proudly showing me a bracelet she was wearing in the picture. It was a thick band of jade. I complimented her on the bracelet in the picture. Very beautiful. Then I noticed that in the picture she had swollen glassy eyes, a sort of puffy face, and a few very purple bruises on her face. I asked the daughter what they were from. Apparently, her mother hadn't given a man some money that she owed him (maybe another clue into her life as a prostitute?) and he came in the night when she was sleeping and beat her up and stole her things. Then he took the daughter and dragged her into the river and tried to drown her but the daughter swam away intime to live. I was shocked. The daughter didn't seem to think it was any big deal. Oh yeah, the girl also had a little brother at one point but he is dead now from drowning.
Somehow I ended up with a pen in my hand and was drawing "tattoos" onto all the eager street children around me. I did a palm tree on the girl's hand and a flower on her arm. She loved it, showing it off proudly to everyone. Then all the other kids wanted one too, so I turned into a Phnom Penh tattoo street artists. It was rather comical. Me, sitting on the river bank with a felt tip pen, inking dirty and delightful kids with images of trees, flowers, suns, and other symmetrical designs. The whole thing turned into a bit of a mob scene with all the kids trying to get a tattoo. Groups of tourists passed me giving me quizzical looks as though I might need to be saved, and what the hell was I doing in the middle of all these homeless people anyway? All these women and children living on the Phnom Penh streets made me love Cambodia even more than I already did. Their genuine kindness, wonderful sense of humor, generosity, and warmth made me so happy. Most, seemed purely happy, despite having nothing and having to sleep outside day after day and dealing with things like beatings, starvation, and stealing. Some of the best people I have met.
A few hours later I said goodbye to all my new friends and moved to a new spot down the river bank. I stopped at a food cart and boy 2 skewers of grilled squished bananas, my favorite street snack and sat down to enjoy the setting sun. A group of young kids were playing down by the water, mostly were wearing either tatters or were completely naked. They came up to me to ask for money and I gave them the remainder of my bananas. They were very pleased with this and sad on the ground relishing the warm sweetness. Then we all started to talk (mostly through charades because they spoke almost no English.) I again, somehow ended up with a pen in my hand, and the kids eagerly pointing to where they wanted me to draw on them. I did my classic palm tree, ocean, setting sun, seaguls flying scene which they were delighted with. So the little group each got a ball point pen palm tree tattoo. After I had finished with them they looked like quite the little biker gang. While tatting them up, a young guy who I thought may have been Japanese was standing beside me watching the whole thing, and laughing at the excited kids. "Very nice!" he complimented the tattoos. I started practicing my Khmer with the kids, reading sentences from the guidebook while they corrected my pronounciation. The possible Japanese guy sat down very near and watched me... I struck up a conversation with him. It turns out he is Chinese from Hong Kong, and has been living in Phnom Penh for 5 months. "Are you Catholic?" was the first question he asked me, pulling away his scarf to reveal a cross hanging from a leather necklace. "No," I repliced. "Christian?" "No." "Buddhist?" "No. Atheist." "Oh..." We small talked for a bit. He looked like a pretty hip guy, mid twenties I think. He got out a scrap of paper and asked me for a pen. I handed him one, while I practiced more sentences with the kids. I thought he was going to write his email address for me. He handed me a slip of paper he had been secretly scrawling something on. I held it up to make out the writing and he anxiously said "Put it down!!!" motioning for me to read it more secretly.... By the way, at this time there were about 10 Cambodian guys standing around "discreetly" watching me draw and talk with the kids. I looked at the paper, tilting it toward the last sun light. What the... On the scrap of paper was scrawled: "I AM A Out Communists (UWFO)" "What the hell?" I thought to myself. This is getting weird. Then, he starts screaming at the nearest Cambodian guy standing near me. "I know you are a communist!! You want to hit me!! You are a Buddhist!! Get out!! You want to hit me!!!" It was a bit startling. I still had no idea what the note was supposed to mean, and could not really understand his whispery explanation in broken English. This was getting intersting. First of all, what is the UWFO?? He mentioned it over and over again. I googled it just now, and could find nothing. Second, why do I care? Well, he said he hates Cambodia and wants to move to USA. He says there is too much communism, Buddhism, and monks. "Very bad. Too much monk. Too much Buddha. All should get out." What the???? This was the first opinion I have heard this negative about Buddhism... "Well, Cambodia is a Buddhist country you know. If you hate Buddhists why did you come?" He responded, although I couldn't tell his point. Something about Vietnam, the UN, refugees, China wanting to kill him, he can never go back to China because the police will shoot him, people in PP want to kill him, Buddhists hate him, monks bad... Really didn't make much sense to me. He really seemed to despise Buddhists whole heartedly, and seemed to connect Buddhists and communists (never heard this link before. Is there a link?) Well, I was starting to get a bit nervous. From his words, it seemed like everyone in Asia hates him and wants to kill him... I was starting to expect an assasination attempt right there on the river front and scooted a bit away. Besides this strange talk and weird note, he seemed like a nice guy... But he refused to stop ranting about how all the communists should get out of Cambodia, and all the Buddhists should get out. (Now this is just ridiculous, because it's a Buddhist country!!!! WTF) At this point, I was so full of stories I couldn't take it anymore, so I said goodbye to him and that it was nice to meet him. I took the note with me, and will work and unencrypting it in the future. (Does anyone know what it means? Was he some sort of spy? What is the UWFO? He said everyone in Cambodia knows he is with the UWFO of Vietnam so they hate hiim....)
sit by yourself + look inviting + Tonle Sap river bank + Phnom Penh = weird/strange/sad/funny/moving/depressing/touching/compassion/exhilaration/people
Step 1: You must be by yourself. Being one person alone is very much more inviting for people that if you are with someone else.
Step 2: Go to the riverside area in Phnom Penh and watch life go by.
Step 3: Have a very inviting look about you, and talk to anyone who tries to engage you in coversation.
The formula is simple, just sit by yourself on the the ledge to the Tonle Sap River along the riverfront. I have been doing this for the last 3 hours and have had some very interesting, fun, hilarious, sad, weird, and depressing stories to tell.
I had just finished a massage, and was in high spirits. I was strolling around the streets, enjoying the Cambodian breeze whipping around my hair. I decided to sit down on the river's ledge to watch life go by, which never ceases to be boring.
There was a woman with a child about 8 or 9 about 10 feet from me. The girl was very eager to talk to me and practice her English. I small talked with the young daugher for a while. The mother and daughter were homeless, and had all their posessions in a few bags. Two Cambodian young guys came up and sat next to me. They asked if we could talk, and I said sure. The guys looked like Mormons, very well dressed and clean cut, but with a strangly mischevious air about them. I chatted with them for a while, and then noticed the homeless woman and daughter behind them trying to get my attention. "NOO!!!" they mouthed. "Bad boys! Don't talk!" Hmm... I wondered, what are they, the Phnom Penh mafia or something? Then one of the guys took out a Bible. "You like Bible?" he asked me. "No." I replied rather bluntly. More women gathered around behind the guys so they couldn't see them. The women and girls continued waving to me and mouthing for me not to talk to them... They didn't seem too harmful, I thought maybe they were some sort of missionary... but maybe that was just their disguise. The homeless women and girls sat down near by and motioned me over to sit with them. I said goodbye to the guys and went over to talk to them. About 5 mintues after I had moved, the guys came over and asked if I would meet them tomorrow. "No, I don't think so," I replied, again, rather bluntly. They looked at each other, and quietly consulted one another. "Do you hate us?" they asked me. "No," I replied, I just don't want to meet you. "Oh, ok." Then they left.
For about an hour I sat and talked to the homeless women and children. There was one mother with a one year old boy, naked from waist down. She had hardly any teeth left. She was 26 years old which was "old" in her opinion. Then there was the woman and girl I had originally been talking to. The mother turned out to be 29, and the daughter was 10. (HOLY!! she had her when she was 19!) The mother looked alot older than she really was and was missing a bunch of teeth as well. The daughter though, she was a character!! Incredibly charismatic, spoke very good English, a real fire cracker type of girl. A hilarious sense of humor, very compassionate, excited about life even though her circumstances seemed far from ideal. From the hours of conversation here is what I learned about the two: They sleep every night in the riverside area, usually on the grass. The girl's mother has no job, and can't get a job because she has no marketable skills. The girl's father is no where to be found, and I don't think she even knows him. The girl goes to school (I think), at least some times.
I asked all about their lives and what they do everday. They eat rice. Just rice because it's cheap. They have been homeless for about 3 years now. Sometimes at night, boys that huff paint come and steal things from them. the daughter relayed all this to me with excitement and seemed completely unphased by all these hardships. They mother and daughter both admired my turquoise rings I had on from Nepal. At this point the mother took the dangly plastic turqoise colored earrings out of her ears and placed them in my hand. I was so touched by this gesture. I at first said I could not accept them, but the mother insisted in her broken English. She really wanted me to have the earrings. The charismatic pair had nothing but a few bags with all their worldly possessions in them, and the mother gave me the only jewellry she owned.
After a while, we gathered a crowd of a bunch more street girls, homeless mothers, and child booksellers who roam the streets trying to sell knock off books to foreigners for a few bucks. Most of the children were crawling on me like I was a jungle gym. I had a small naked one year old baby in my lap and was bouncing him up and down. I lifted him off me just in the nick of time to miss a heavy stream of pee.
One of the mother's most prized possessions seemed to be a collection of about 10 pictures. They were all wrapped in plastic and she showed them to me carefully. All were of the mother and daughter a few years ago. The mother looked about 10 years younger in the pictures thanshe did now. I looked into her eyes in the pictures. They were full of youth and hope. I looked at her eyes now, they seemed dazed and more empty. From various snippets of the conversation and from the pictures I had a feeling some thing bad has happened in the last 2 years to her. I had a premonition that she mayhave become a prostitute to support herself and her daughter.
She presented me with one picture very proudly showing me a bracelet she was wearing in the picture. It was a thick band of jade. I complimented her on the bracelet in the picture. Very beautiful. Then I noticed that in the picture she had swollen glassy eyes, a sort of puffy face, and a few very purple bruises on her face. I asked the daughter what they were from. Apparently, her mother hadn't given a man some money that she owed him (maybe another clue into her life as a prostitute?) and he came in the night when she was sleeping and beat her up and stole her things. Then he took the daughter and dragged her into the river and tried to drown her but the daughter swam away intime to live. I was shocked. The daughter didn't seem to think it was any big deal. Oh yeah, the girl also had a little brother at one point but he is dead now from drowning.
Somehow I ended up with a pen in my hand and was drawing "tattoos" onto all the eager street children around me. I did a palm tree on the girl's hand and a flower on her arm. She loved it, showing it off proudly to everyone. Then all the other kids wanted one too, so I turned into a Phnom Penh tattoo street artists. It was rather comical. Me, sitting on the river bank with a felt tip pen, inking dirty and delightful kids with images of trees, flowers, suns, and other symmetrical designs. The whole thing turned into a bit of a mob scene with all the kids trying to get a tattoo. Groups of tourists passed me giving me quizzical looks as though I might need to be saved, and what the hell was I doing in the middle of all these homeless people anyway? All these women and children living on the Phnom Penh streets made me love Cambodia even more than I already did. Their genuine kindness, wonderful sense of humor, generosity, and warmth made me so happy. Most, seemed purely happy, despite having nothing and having to sleep outside day after day and dealing with things like beatings, starvation, and stealing. Some of the best people I have met.
A few hours later I said goodbye to all my new friends and moved to a new spot down the river bank. I stopped at a food cart and boy 2 skewers of grilled squished bananas, my favorite street snack and sat down to enjoy the setting sun. A group of young kids were playing down by the water, mostly were wearing either tatters or were completely naked. They came up to me to ask for money and I gave them the remainder of my bananas. They were very pleased with this and sad on the ground relishing the warm sweetness. Then we all started to talk (mostly through charades because they spoke almost no English.) I again, somehow ended up with a pen in my hand, and the kids eagerly pointing to where they wanted me to draw on them. I did my classic palm tree, ocean, setting sun, seaguls flying scene which they were delighted with. So the little group each got a ball point pen palm tree tattoo. After I had finished with them they looked like quite the little biker gang. While tatting them up, a young guy who I thought may have been Japanese was standing beside me watching the whole thing, and laughing at the excited kids. "Very nice!" he complimented the tattoos. I started practicing my Khmer with the kids, reading sentences from the guidebook while they corrected my pronounciation. The possible Japanese guy sat down very near and watched me... I struck up a conversation with him. It turns out he is Chinese from Hong Kong, and has been living in Phnom Penh for 5 months. "Are you Catholic?" was the first question he asked me, pulling away his scarf to reveal a cross hanging from a leather necklace. "No," I repliced. "Christian?" "No." "Buddhist?" "No. Atheist." "Oh..." We small talked for a bit. He looked like a pretty hip guy, mid twenties I think. He got out a scrap of paper and asked me for a pen. I handed him one, while I practiced more sentences with the kids. I thought he was going to write his email address for me. He handed me a slip of paper he had been secretly scrawling something on. I held it up to make out the writing and he anxiously said "Put it down!!!" motioning for me to read it more secretly.... By the way, at this time there were about 10 Cambodian guys standing around "discreetly" watching me draw and talk with the kids. I looked at the paper, tilting it toward the last sun light. What the... On the scrap of paper was scrawled: "I AM A Out Communists (UWFO)" "What the hell?" I thought to myself. This is getting weird. Then, he starts screaming at the nearest Cambodian guy standing near me. "I know you are a communist!! You want to hit me!! You are a Buddhist!! Get out!! You want to hit me!!!" It was a bit startling. I still had no idea what the note was supposed to mean, and could not really understand his whispery explanation in broken English. This was getting intersting. First of all, what is the UWFO?? He mentioned it over and over again. I googled it just now, and could find nothing. Second, why do I care? Well, he said he hates Cambodia and wants to move to USA. He says there is too much communism, Buddhism, and monks. "Very bad. Too much monk. Too much Buddha. All should get out." What the???? This was the first opinion I have heard this negative about Buddhism... "Well, Cambodia is a Buddhist country you know. If you hate Buddhists why did you come?" He responded, although I couldn't tell his point. Something about Vietnam, the UN, refugees, China wanting to kill him, he can never go back to China because the police will shoot him, people in PP want to kill him, Buddhists hate him, monks bad... Really didn't make much sense to me. He really seemed to despise Buddhists whole heartedly, and seemed to connect Buddhists and communists (never heard this link before. Is there a link?) Well, I was starting to get a bit nervous. From his words, it seemed like everyone in Asia hates him and wants to kill him... I was starting to expect an assasination attempt right there on the river front and scooted a bit away. Besides this strange talk and weird note, he seemed like a nice guy... But he refused to stop ranting about how all the communists should get out of Cambodia, and all the Buddhists should get out. (Now this is just ridiculous, because it's a Buddhist country!!!! WTF) At this point, I was so full of stories I couldn't take it anymore, so I said goodbye to him and that it was nice to meet him. I took the note with me, and will work and unencrypting it in the future. (Does anyone know what it means? Was he some sort of spy? What is the UWFO? He said everyone in Cambodia knows he is with the UWFO of Vietnam so they hate hiim....)
sit by yourself + look inviting + Tonle Sap river bank + Phnom Penh = weird/strange/sad/funny/moving/depressing/touching/compassion/exhilaration/people
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Genocide Museum
This was probably one of the most depressing places I have ever seen. It was an old high school, then the Khmer Rouge regime turned it into a prison and torture place for thousands of Cambodians. The place was called S-21, or security office 21. Horrifying place. Creepy. Eerie. The most horrifying place. I have alot to write about this place, but I am not ready to write about it yet. I have some things to think about.
One thing I need to think about first:
-Could any of us have done this? Could you or me have been members of the Khmer Rouge regime? Because it wasn't crazy people or psychos who were the Khmer Rouge, it was regular everyday people... So, it could have been me or you. Do we all have the ability to kill within us? If faced, would be murder thousands of people for our own survival? I think, actually, yes. My guide book says about Tuol Sleng Museum: "it demonstrates the darkest side of the human spirit that lurks within us all." I read that and that, "ohmy god!! That spirit does not lurk within us all, that spirit does not lurk within me!! How can they say that!!" But, I've changed my mind, I think that statement is correct. This murdurous, torturing spirit does lurk within you and me. It is something anyone reading this will never have to think about. We read and learn about genocide and think, "how can people do that? it's so horrible! how could another person ever do that to another human?" At the museum there are torture devided the Khmer Rouge used on it's victims. Disgusting stuff. I'm sure all of us visitors, mostly Westerners, were thinking: it's so disgusting how people did that. And it is disgusting, but the people who did it were just the same as you and me. We won't ever have to think about what it would be like for us, because it won't happen to us, I don't think at least. But when faced with economic hardship, poverty, and other such things would it be possible for us to turn into murder machines who would kill others? And, if you were selected for the Khmer Rouge and instructed to execute hundreds of men, women and children into a mass grave, would you do it to save yourself? I think probably yes. These questions are sort of scary to ask ourselves, and we probably rarely think about it. We hear about Darfur, Cambodia, Rawanda, the Holocaust, andthink how horrible. Millions of people dead. What bad people they are that are doing it. But I think there is something wrong with thinking that. There is some sort of thing we won't ever understand, or at least not fully. This is what I need to think about more. Would I do it if I were in that position? I don't want to be vague here and say: would you do it you were in that position? I want to ask myself, would I do it? Would I murder people if I were in that position, a Khmer Rouge cadre. Would I become convinced that the Vietnamese were the arch enemy, and that many Cambodians were against the Angkar and should be killed. I don't like to think about it, but to be honest, I probably would. It is hard for us Westerners to think about because it will not happen to us. I could think: "No way, I am a fine upstanding citizen. I'm no murderer." But faced with your own life, isn't the survival impulse greater? Wouldn't you rather kill someone else, and live yourself? Strange to think about. I have more to say about this later.
-Genocide: Killings and murders and death has become so desensitized. Everyday in the news we hear about murders, killings, hundreds dead in suicide bombings. To be honest, those things don't phase me at all. I hear them everyday. 20 people, 40 people, 60 people bombed, killed, murdered. They are just numbers to me. There is no way I can imagine death and pain on this scale. I hate to say it, but hearing those numbers don't move me at all. The media has desensitized me to those deaths so much. Pakistan, Afghanistan, Africa, it's all so far away... I think. But when you look at the pictures of the faces of the dead. You think: "This person is dead now. they were murdered and tortured." When you look into their eyes, see their face shape, their shirt, their hair, their teeth, their sunken cheeks. It is different then. You think that this one person is a human life. This one person had a whole network of people. A real life, not just some number on Fox news. Then it becomes much more real. Then you start to realize the breadth of a genocide, and the number of people killed, even though it is still hard to imagine millions killed.
-Something that annoyed me at the museum: There was this little area that all bunch of people had written on the walls. Some wrote sad sounding poems, or peace signs, or quotes. Alot wrote things and then signed their name and country at the bottom of the scratching. Most of the things were written by Westerners. I was annoyed because alot of the quotes were somehting of the nature of "Never again","we will learn from this, and never let it happen in the future." Stuff like that... well that's all very heartfelt and nice and stuff... but obviously, we are letting it happen again, and again and again and again. The messages seemed very... worthless? Because you can say "we will never let it happen again" as many times as you want, and scratch "we learned our lesson" in every genocide museum in the world, but as long as millions of people are still being mass killed in places, it doesn't have any meaning.
-I hate saying "what can you do?" but really... What can you do? One of the messages on the scribble wall said "You never have NO choice." That's not true, in my opinion. Sometimes, you don't have a choice, and this is the thing I don't think Westerners realize, because we usually do have a choice. We can't imagine having no choice. But when you are given a machette and told to execute 100 people because they are traitors and the country is run bythe Khmer Rouge, what choice do you have? You can either do it, or be killed yourself. So I suppose you always do have a choice, but in these sorts of situations, the other choice is probably to die yourself.
More to come...
One thing I need to think about first:
-Could any of us have done this? Could you or me have been members of the Khmer Rouge regime? Because it wasn't crazy people or psychos who were the Khmer Rouge, it was regular everyday people... So, it could have been me or you. Do we all have the ability to kill within us? If faced, would be murder thousands of people for our own survival? I think, actually, yes. My guide book says about Tuol Sleng Museum: "it demonstrates the darkest side of the human spirit that lurks within us all." I read that and that, "ohmy god!! That spirit does not lurk within us all, that spirit does not lurk within me!! How can they say that!!" But, I've changed my mind, I think that statement is correct. This murdurous, torturing spirit does lurk within you and me. It is something anyone reading this will never have to think about. We read and learn about genocide and think, "how can people do that? it's so horrible! how could another person ever do that to another human?" At the museum there are torture devided the Khmer Rouge used on it's victims. Disgusting stuff. I'm sure all of us visitors, mostly Westerners, were thinking: it's so disgusting how people did that. And it is disgusting, but the people who did it were just the same as you and me. We won't ever have to think about what it would be like for us, because it won't happen to us, I don't think at least. But when faced with economic hardship, poverty, and other such things would it be possible for us to turn into murder machines who would kill others? And, if you were selected for the Khmer Rouge and instructed to execute hundreds of men, women and children into a mass grave, would you do it to save yourself? I think probably yes. These questions are sort of scary to ask ourselves, and we probably rarely think about it. We hear about Darfur, Cambodia, Rawanda, the Holocaust, andthink how horrible. Millions of people dead. What bad people they are that are doing it. But I think there is something wrong with thinking that. There is some sort of thing we won't ever understand, or at least not fully. This is what I need to think about more. Would I do it if I were in that position? I don't want to be vague here and say: would you do it you were in that position? I want to ask myself, would I do it? Would I murder people if I were in that position, a Khmer Rouge cadre. Would I become convinced that the Vietnamese were the arch enemy, and that many Cambodians were against the Angkar and should be killed. I don't like to think about it, but to be honest, I probably would. It is hard for us Westerners to think about because it will not happen to us. I could think: "No way, I am a fine upstanding citizen. I'm no murderer." But faced with your own life, isn't the survival impulse greater? Wouldn't you rather kill someone else, and live yourself? Strange to think about. I have more to say about this later.
-Genocide: Killings and murders and death has become so desensitized. Everyday in the news we hear about murders, killings, hundreds dead in suicide bombings. To be honest, those things don't phase me at all. I hear them everyday. 20 people, 40 people, 60 people bombed, killed, murdered. They are just numbers to me. There is no way I can imagine death and pain on this scale. I hate to say it, but hearing those numbers don't move me at all. The media has desensitized me to those deaths so much. Pakistan, Afghanistan, Africa, it's all so far away... I think. But when you look at the pictures of the faces of the dead. You think: "This person is dead now. they were murdered and tortured." When you look into their eyes, see their face shape, their shirt, their hair, their teeth, their sunken cheeks. It is different then. You think that this one person is a human life. This one person had a whole network of people. A real life, not just some number on Fox news. Then it becomes much more real. Then you start to realize the breadth of a genocide, and the number of people killed, even though it is still hard to imagine millions killed.
-Something that annoyed me at the museum: There was this little area that all bunch of people had written on the walls. Some wrote sad sounding poems, or peace signs, or quotes. Alot wrote things and then signed their name and country at the bottom of the scratching. Most of the things were written by Westerners. I was annoyed because alot of the quotes were somehting of the nature of "Never again","we will learn from this, and never let it happen in the future." Stuff like that... well that's all very heartfelt and nice and stuff... but obviously, we are letting it happen again, and again and again and again. The messages seemed very... worthless? Because you can say "we will never let it happen again" as many times as you want, and scratch "we learned our lesson" in every genocide museum in the world, but as long as millions of people are still being mass killed in places, it doesn't have any meaning.
-I hate saying "what can you do?" but really... What can you do? One of the messages on the scribble wall said "You never have NO choice." That's not true, in my opinion. Sometimes, you don't have a choice, and this is the thing I don't think Westerners realize, because we usually do have a choice. We can't imagine having no choice. But when you are given a machette and told to execute 100 people because they are traitors and the country is run bythe Khmer Rouge, what choice do you have? You can either do it, or be killed yourself. So I suppose you always do have a choice, but in these sorts of situations, the other choice is probably to die yourself.
More to come...
10 Things I Am Thankful For Right Now
1) I have 2 legs and 2 arms, and 10 fully functioning fingers. (Daily, I see more and more people without arms, legs, fingers, or all of the above. I am increasingly happy to have all of these things.)
2) I can bathe privately in clean water when ever I want. (I see alot of people old, and young bathing in the very public banks of the Tonle Sap river. I am increasingly thankful for privacy and clear unpolluted water for bathing.)
3)I don't have to beg for a living, and never will. (I always try to think about what the mentality of a beggar is. It is hard to imagine. It must become such a routine thing.... Doing the same thing everyday for years and decades even. Asking foreigners for money when they are blatantly extremely more rich than them, only to have the foreigners most always decline. What do they feel? Annoyance, restentfulness, maybe they don't even think about it anymore.)
4)I don't have to worry about stepping on landmines in my day to day life. This would be a horrible thing to worry about, and most rural Cambodians do have to worry about this, as there are still an estimated 6 million live land mines in this country!!
5) I do not have children, and at 20 years old get to be selfish and have myself as my first priority and do things for myself. (I am appreciative of this when seeing all the very young Cambodian girls, probably about my age, that have one, two, three maybe more children! At only 20 years old, they don't get to experience this freedom of youth that I am experiencing now. They have children already which they must feed. I cannot even imagine having children at this age. Thank god!! I am enjoying this freedom of youth immensely, also maybe it is the freedom of having some money.)
6) All my family and friends are alive and well, and they all have 4 limbs.
7) I am blessed with this travel experience and freedom.
8) Books!
9) Cambodian street food, need I say more.
10) My hiking boots. Thank god for those.
11) Relative carefreeness. My cares are pretty free as well... How to get to the next location, what to eat, where to go next, etc...
12) Grilled squished bananas... one of my fave Cambodian street foods
13) Not being scared of the unknown.
14) I have a bed to sleep on.
15) I have never had to personally go through a war, and probably never will. (Iraq doesn't count.)
16) Being able to meet alot of really cool, interesting people on the road who I share intersts with.
Well... The list ended up being 16, but I have alot of things to be thankful for! What writing this, at times I think I sound like a spoiled person. Like the part about me being able to be a selfish 20 year old. I don't really think I'm spoiled, but I think I am really, really lucky that I have been granted the ability to be selfish at the age of 20. I think 20 years old is the time to be selfish and do things for yourself. Anyway, I am just really really really lucky.
2) I can bathe privately in clean water when ever I want. (I see alot of people old, and young bathing in the very public banks of the Tonle Sap river. I am increasingly thankful for privacy and clear unpolluted water for bathing.)
3)I don't have to beg for a living, and never will. (I always try to think about what the mentality of a beggar is. It is hard to imagine. It must become such a routine thing.... Doing the same thing everyday for years and decades even. Asking foreigners for money when they are blatantly extremely more rich than them, only to have the foreigners most always decline. What do they feel? Annoyance, restentfulness, maybe they don't even think about it anymore.)
4)I don't have to worry about stepping on landmines in my day to day life. This would be a horrible thing to worry about, and most rural Cambodians do have to worry about this, as there are still an estimated 6 million live land mines in this country!!
5) I do not have children, and at 20 years old get to be selfish and have myself as my first priority and do things for myself. (I am appreciative of this when seeing all the very young Cambodian girls, probably about my age, that have one, two, three maybe more children! At only 20 years old, they don't get to experience this freedom of youth that I am experiencing now. They have children already which they must feed. I cannot even imagine having children at this age. Thank god!! I am enjoying this freedom of youth immensely, also maybe it is the freedom of having some money.)
6) All my family and friends are alive and well, and they all have 4 limbs.
7) I am blessed with this travel experience and freedom.
8) Books!
9) Cambodian street food, need I say more.
10) My hiking boots. Thank god for those.
11) Relative carefreeness. My cares are pretty free as well... How to get to the next location, what to eat, where to go next, etc...
12) Grilled squished bananas... one of my fave Cambodian street foods
13) Not being scared of the unknown.
14) I have a bed to sleep on.
15) I have never had to personally go through a war, and probably never will. (Iraq doesn't count.)
16) Being able to meet alot of really cool, interesting people on the road who I share intersts with.
Well... The list ended up being 16, but I have alot of things to be thankful for! What writing this, at times I think I sound like a spoiled person. Like the part about me being able to be a selfish 20 year old. I don't really think I'm spoiled, but I think I am really, really lucky that I have been granted the ability to be selfish at the age of 20. I think 20 years old is the time to be selfish and do things for yourself. Anyway, I am just really really really lucky.
Pigs on a Moto
I was walking down one of the main streets of Phnom Penh watching the crazy traffic scream by. Motos, cars, tuktuks, trucks, bicycles, cyclos! Then, a moto with two guys sped past me. Were they oinking? I did a double take as they zoomed past. In fact, the man on the back of the moto was holding a very large, almost hog like, pink pig which was sitting on the seat sandwiched between the two men, oinking like crazy!! Only in Phnom Penh, I thought, while laughing out loud.
Markets Everywhere!!
Yesss!! I love the markets here. There are so lively and are never ending fun! I am not so interested in seeing all the temples around Phnom Penh, but am hitting all the markets. I wish we had some sort of Western equivalent because I am going to really miss these when I go home. Each market has a different character to it. It is so fun to just wander around the stalls and look at all the things people are selling, and watch the people go about their daily market business.
Stuff:
-Cambodia apparently is where alot of designer brand clothes are made. There heaps of designer clothing from Gap, Old Navy, Burburry, Nike, Adidas, Abercrombie, American Eagle, Lacoste, Polo Ralph Lauren, and many more. Phnom Penh would definetally be the place to designer brand shop if you wanted to go to a place for purely shopping purposes. It is fun to wander these designer stall and see how much things cost... usually a dollar or so for a Burburry or Lacoste shirt. I laugh to think how much all these would cost at home, maybe 100 times the price.
Food:
The best parts of the markets in my opinion, are the food areas. I love looking at everything!! Some cool stuff in the markets:
-Fish. All varieties of fish, still swimming about. Women scraping scales off the dead ones with their knives.
-meat. Oh man, all kinds of meat I don't even know. Hooves, intestines, legs, brains, tongue.
-Sea food. the seafood areas are fun to walk through because most of the stuff is still alive. The children of the seafood stall owners try to scare each other by sticking live crabs in each other's faces.
-Food stall. The food areas are really fun. There are so many interesting foods in Cambodia! Alot of varieties of noodle soups, porridges, meat stuffs, spicy salads, and things I couldn't even name. It is also fn to walk to through and see so many people enjoying their food so much. Women walk through the the lanes with big woven trays of foods ballanced on their heads.
Stuff:
-Cambodia apparently is where alot of designer brand clothes are made. There heaps of designer clothing from Gap, Old Navy, Burburry, Nike, Adidas, Abercrombie, American Eagle, Lacoste, Polo Ralph Lauren, and many more. Phnom Penh would definetally be the place to designer brand shop if you wanted to go to a place for purely shopping purposes. It is fun to wander these designer stall and see how much things cost... usually a dollar or so for a Burburry or Lacoste shirt. I laugh to think how much all these would cost at home, maybe 100 times the price.
Food:
The best parts of the markets in my opinion, are the food areas. I love looking at everything!! Some cool stuff in the markets:
-Fish. All varieties of fish, still swimming about. Women scraping scales off the dead ones with their knives.
-meat. Oh man, all kinds of meat I don't even know. Hooves, intestines, legs, brains, tongue.
-Sea food. the seafood areas are fun to walk through because most of the stuff is still alive. The children of the seafood stall owners try to scare each other by sticking live crabs in each other's faces.
-Food stall. The food areas are really fun. There are so many interesting foods in Cambodia! Alot of varieties of noodle soups, porridges, meat stuffs, spicy salads, and things I couldn't even name. It is also fn to walk to through and see so many people enjoying their food so much. Women walk through the the lanes with big woven trays of foods ballanced on their heads.
Curious Questions
I have been noticing something in Phnom Penh that I am curious about... This may be a sensitive topic but I am still very curious. I have been seeing a huge amount of Western men with really young Cambodian girls/women. Really, a huge amount. At tourist places, restaurants, tuk tuks, just walking the street together. Alot of the time they seem to be boyfriend and girl friend, but the girl is usually very quiet and seems sort of timid and doesn't talk much. On the boat from Siem Reap to Battambang, there was a middle aged man from California with a Cambodian girl, probably around my age who was very very shy and embarrassed at everything and timid. The rest of us on the roof of the boat were foreigners, and when ever the boat lurched or moved faster than before she screamed really loud. The man seemed exasperated with her at times, but he also hugged and kissed her and acted like they were married or something.
-This is probably not good or politically correct of me to say, but I can't help but wondering if some of these girls are with these men are connected with the sex tourism business?
-I am positive that some of these couples are legitimately married or dating, so don't get me wrong on that one. I do not want to generalize this issue and say that I think all mixed couples are not legitimate. That is not what I am saying at all.
-I am curious why I have seen sooooo many older Western men (and some younger men too) with young Cambodian girls, but why I have not seen a single Western woman with a Cambodian guy? I would be curious to know more about this.
-This is probably not good or politically correct of me to say, but I can't help but wondering if some of these girls are with these men are connected with the sex tourism business?
-I am positive that some of these couples are legitimately married or dating, so don't get me wrong on that one. I do not want to generalize this issue and say that I think all mixed couples are not legitimate. That is not what I am saying at all.
-I am curious why I have seen sooooo many older Western men (and some younger men too) with young Cambodian girls, but why I have not seen a single Western woman with a Cambodian guy? I would be curious to know more about this.
Phnom Pehn
Arrival in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia's captial! Wow, this place is amazing. I'm really loving it... It is somewhere I wouldn't mind living for one or two years along the line sometime. It is quite a nice place, alot different than I was expecting. I was expecting it to be alot more similar to Kathmandu, as I have heard from various people that "all Asian capitals are the same..." Well, that is completely not true. This place is alot more cosmopolitan. Phnom Pehn is fascinating... From all the places I have seen so far there is the biggest visible gap between extremely rich and very poor. There are some amazingly beautiful hotels, swanky restaurants, gorgeous mansions throughout the city. There are also the little winding dark alleys I am used to from Kathmandu that house the less well off city residents. There are very posh restaurants where people wearing Banana Republic chic linen clothing toast and sit in minimalistic chrome bar stools. Across from these restaurants is the river which shimmers under dozens of country's flags whipping in the wind. In the river are very poor people's boats, tiny wooden canoes. Naked children bathe in the murky brown water, and fisherman pull in small catches of fish in nets. There are endless rivers of motos, alongside big trucks carrying dozens of men coming back from a day's manual work, alongside shiny new Mercedes. Phnom Pehn is definetally interesting to wander around as I have not seen anything like this place before. It is like Kathmandu in spots. There are dirty places (but to a lesser extent) and markets where the peddlers resemble the peddlers on Kathmandu's streets, exhibiting the freshest vegetables, chickens (not even dead yet), fish, fruit, and other food stuffs. It is like Singapore in some spots. Some places, like the riverside area are very clean and Westernized. There is a manicured grass lawn spanning the boulevard, nice statues, museums, curved Cambodian buildings. The riverfront area reminds me of Boat Quay and Clarke Quay in Singapore. A very nice place, catering to alot of foreigners and expats. Then there is Monivong (sp?) boulevard which reminds me of a mixture of Kathmandu and Tokyo. There is chaos. Never ending chaos. To get even more chaos, hop on a moto and have him drive you around in the rush hour traffic (frightening!!! but well worth the harrowing experience!) There are flashing lights, big buildings, traffic lights that people sort of abide by. There are casinos, and posh drinking spots, sushi restaurants. There are street vendors, and those little hole in the wall shops that seem to be all over Asia that sell all sorts of what looks like junk to the untrained eye, but are probably useful things to someone. Phnom Penh is really fascinating. You can live in high style, you can live dirt cheap. In Kathmandu, there was not such a divide between rich and poor. Most people in KTM seemed to be about the same socio-economic status. There were of course, alot of beggars, but the majority of people seemed to be lower middle class in Nepali standards. Most people seemed decently dressed and clean, but not rich by any means, and there were not rich areas. The only "nice" hotel was the Hyatt, but that was really far away from the center of town.
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