It was a relief to arrive in Jaipur after being in Bombay for a few days. Jaipur immediately seemed much smaller, less hectic and prettier.
The first couple days here Liz and I spent exploring the city by foot, checking out the Old City, the bazaars, a textile factory and some temples, just getting to know the city a little bit.
Our first night we decided to go to a semi-famous theater called the Raj Mandir. We saw a Bollywood movie called Tashan or "style" in English. It was a pretty decent movie, and we could understand the plot without much English being spoken. The dancing and music scenes were great, as was the final fight scene. The crowd at Bollywood movies gets really into the movie, booing the bad guys, whistling at the sexy actresses and speaking their mind out loud whenever they feel like adding a comment to the film. It makes for a pretty funny and interesting movie experience.
Liz and I went to a place called the Temple of Krishna, where we got a nice view of the street below and met a few really nice men. They showed us around the temple, gave us tips on getting to other temples cheaply, and told us a little history of the city. We stayed there for at least an hour, and went back again later that night so I could pick up a small painting I wanted to get.
Our second night we went to a couchsurfing friend named Garish's house where his sisters prepared an excellent meal for us. His family was kind enough to invite us into their home, feed us, and make us feel welcome. Garish and his family live right inside the Chandpol gate in the Old City.
The next day Garish invited us to come along to a friend of a friend's wedding in a small village about 20km outside of Jaipur City. We accepted the invitation, making what could have been the best decision we made all trip.
Dave got to our hotel just as we were leaving to meet Garish at his house, and he came along with us. We got to his house around 6:30pm and left just before 7pm with 7 people in a small rickshaw.
Right after we arrived at the village and got out of the rickshaw, Garish called me to the side and told me that he just received a call from his sister. She said that there were some bomb blasts in Jaipur, she thought about three, and that we should probably not come back to the city tonight. As the night went on, the calls kept coming and soon he found out that there were 7 or 8 (it ended up being 7, with the 8th bomb defused before blowing up). We had no idea whether anyone was hurt of killed, where exactly the bombs were, when it would be safe to go back to the city etc...
Towards the end of the evening we found out that there was a curfew in the Old City, so we would go back the next morning. So with an uncertainty, we went to a friend of a friend's uncle-in-law's house, where we slept on the roof amidst peacocks, cows and goats.
After a rough night of tossing and turning I was the first of the 5 foreigners to awaken. I walked down the ladder to join our Indian guests who were listening for news on the radio. Garish told us that the curfew wouldn't be lifted until 8am, and then only for an hour. It was about 6:30am at this point. Around 7:20am we headed out to make the trip back to the city. The rickshaw driver dropped us off on the main road near our hotel, and he rushed off to get Garish home.
I ran up to the room to grab my camera and after checking the news, Dave and I headed off to see the scene of the bomb attacks. We had only 30 minutes to get into the old city, take some photos and get out of the gates before they closed. The first few drivers we asked said they wouldn't take us, and told us to go back to our hotel. We finally found someone who said they would take us, but for about 2x the normal cost. We agreed and got in. I told him to take us to Hawa Mahal, or the Wind Palace. It was a spot that Liz and I had met a friend the night before the bombings, and a spot that was targeted because of it's notoriaty.
Our driver told us we could walk around for ten minutes before he would have to leave. There were police everywhere, people rushing around trying to get last minute things done in the hour window of the curfew's suspension, and news trucks with reporters everywhere. I took some pictures of a car that had the front end blown up, and of the crowd of people being herded out of the area. Dave and I were interviewed by a woman from the New York Times, but it seems she left us out of her article. It was a mad scene, and in the few minutes there, we got a good feel of how crazy the city was, and I'm sure will continue to be for a little while.
It was only later that we found out that the area where Liz and I first waited for Garish, and later walked by only an hour before the attacks was one of the areas targeted in the bombings, with 3-5 people killed where we stood only an hour earlier. The shops in front of the Hawa Mahal where Liz and I waited for a friend the night before the bombings were also targeted, killing more people.
As we took a rickshaw through the Old City today, two days after the attacks, our driver was pointing out different places that the 7 bombs went off. One of the was the Temple of Krishna, where Liz and I spent a good ammount of time a few days earlier. We asked if we could get out and go to the temple to see if our two friends were ok. As we got near the temple, we saw a metal water tank riddled with holes. A group of people waited around it for a chance to touch the holes, or stick something into them, as if examining them in disbelief. Immediately the two men from the temple recognized us and said hello. We said we had come to see if they were safe, and we were glad to see that they were. One of the men told us that there was a man with a food cart in front of the water tank selling his spicy fried food when the bomb went off right in front of him. He was killed along with others waiting in line for food in front of the temple. Our other friend was standing right behind the water tank as the bomb exploded and he proudly showed off his wound on his chest and the holes in his shirt that the projectiles made.
"My guru saved my life" he proudly told us. Eerily enough, a few days earlier he was telling us how strongly he believes that his Guru, who died about 10 years ago, protects him in situations that threaten his life. We were glad to see our friends were ok, and we told them that, and said goodbye.
Earlier in the day the three of us went to the hospital where most of the injured and murdered people were taken to. Dave and I were asked if we wanted to go inside and see some of the survivors, and we did. We walked up to a ward with 8 survivors, most who had pellets from the bombs lodged in parts or all of the bodies. A woman acted as our translator and took us over to one man and his family. He had pellets all over his ankle and leg. We told him we were sorry for what he went through, wished him good luck in his surgery and a speedy recovery. He seemed thankful, as did his family, to hear from us. The people in the ward we visited were some of the luckiest of the surviving victims, others were hurt much worse, many dying or close to death. The news is reporting 61 dead with 150-200 injured, but people at the hospital said at least 500 people came in either dead or injured. After talking with the man, our translator informed us she was with the Indo Asian News Service and she wanted to interview us. She asked us some questions and we were answering them as a man walked down the hall towards the ward. He was excorted by soldiers or police with machine guns and many bodyguards. She told us he was a politician in power and had one of his legs blown off in a blast sometime ago. He travels around India talking to victims of terrorist attacks. On his way our of the ward he stopped and asked the lady interviweing us why we were there. She explained we wanted to talk to the survivors as well, and donate blood. They talked for a few minutes, and she got what I think was the first interview this man had given about the Jaipur bombings. She thanked us for our time, and we went off to donate blood.
In the blood bank we were swarmed by cameras and reporters, before, during, and after our donations. In the past few days Dave and I had been interviewed by at least 6 ot 7 different print or TV media sources. The interviews continued as we left the hospital, and the pictures never stopped. Hopefully we helped the American reputation in India, if only a little bit.
Tonight we are off to Udaipur on a 12 hour train, our first train ride in India, should be interesting.
Liz and I got up at 4am May 7th to catch our bus to the Airport, and extremely early morning for both of us. When we got to our gate, imagine our surprise when we realized that we would be riding on the first ever Jet Airways Innagural Bangkok>Mumbai direct flight! This might not sound like much, but the pomp and circumstance, never ending speeches by presidents and people of import from Jet Airwats, Confetti, music, dancers, and finally a ribon cutting ceremony! After all of this, they finally let us on the plane, but not without giving us some innagural flight candies and a free baseball cap commemorating the memorable day, complete with extra bag checks, metal detectors and pat downs for the press cameras. We truly felt like celebrities. After the pre-flight excessiveness I thought it humorous that the flight was maybe 1/3 filled.
The food was delicious, with a full menu to choose from Indian or Western food, and the attendents were on their toes to get us anything we needed. Every seat had a touchscreen with movies, music, flight map etc... All of this for a four hour flight!
We arrived at the airport and Liz's family friends arranged a driver to pick us up and take us to their apartment, an incredible marble floored mansion of a place in North Bombay. That night we went to the Gateway Arch and Colaba Causeway to walk around and see some of the sights from one of my favorite books "Shantaram" by Gregory David Roberts. Bombay has ceased to be as overwhelming and congested as I was expecting, but that's a good thing I suppose.
Today we went off to explore the 2000 year old Kanheri Caves. They were really impressive, but we were really rushed to get out of the park by closing time.
Ok dinner is calling,
This being my second time in Thailand in 5 months, it was the first time I've gone back to a vacation spot with the last trip still so fresh in my mind. I remembered boat driver's and waiter's and bartender's faces and names.
This time around however, I was with a different group of people, which of course makes the same vacation completely different. The first night we got to Bangkok Dave, Liz and I met up with Tyler and Dascha, two friends who worked at English Village before I got there. They took us to a bar called Saxophone which had some amazing live music. The first good band I have seen in a small venue in a long time. And probably a catalyst to my decision to go home earlier than originally planned. The next night Dave took off for Koh Tao and Liz and I went to a house party with Tyler and Dascha, it was a godbye party for some of their co-workers. We met some good people and had a good night.
After that, Liz and I took a day trip to Kanchanaburi, about a 2 hour ride from Bangkok. This is where the River Kwai is, and the bridge on the River Kwai from the book/movie/World War II. It had been so long since I'd seen the movie, and my WW2 history isn't the greatest, but I had absolutely no idea how many people died buiding this railroad. 16,000 allied soldiers and more than 100,000 Asian conscripted soldiers were killed building the railroad.
After touring a cemetary and the bridge, we took a bamboo raft down the river, and then went and did an elephant ride. The raft was nice, the elephant ride was bumpy, sore, slow, and I felt bad for the elephants who were poked with a sharp steel spike on their heads to get them to move. A quick trip to a small, dirty and unimpressive waterfall, and then it was time to head back to the big city.
While in Bangkok I ran into two friends from Korea. One is a friend named Pablo who I actually met in China at a Couchsurfing party, and then again at my good friends' Adam and Jessica's party in Seoul. He was walking down the street as I was sitting at a bar with two Korean guys from my elephant trip. I yelled his name, and sure enough it was him. We had a few drinks and laughed about the randomness of our meeting circumstances, and he was off. Hopefully I'll run into him again.
The next day I was walking down the street with Liz and ran into my buddy Tim. Liz was leaving for the north the next day, so I would be alone heading south. Tim was alone with no solid plans, and it didn't take much work to convince him to come to the islands with me the next day. Our hotel forgot our 5am wakeup call, so we missed the bus, had one more night in Bangkok, which was a good one, and then headed out the next day for Koh Phangan.
One of my favorite places in the world is on this island ( a place which name will remain a secret) and I was filled with anticipation as we got off the boat onto the island. Before we headed off to my favorite spot we spent a couple nights at Had Rin beach, the most populated and touristy beach. My good buddy from Breckenridge was on the beach and emailed me where to find him. It was good connecting with someone from back home and finding out about friends back there. Mark, Needless to say, my favorite spot was awesome, everything I expected, and was made even better by Dave's surprise visit for my last night there. We had a great time, and then we headed over to Koh Tao where Dave was starting his diving course.
Koh Tao is a cool island, mostly geared toward divers and diving, but we had a good time nonetheless. I met yet another buddy from Korea there named Nick. He fell in love with diving recently and has decided to get his Dive Masters which will allow him to lead diving trips and make that his living.
After a couple nights there, it was time to leave the islands. Nick and Dave were staying to finish their courses, and Tim was heading to Koh Samui, so I was off to meet Liz back in Bangkok, and the two of us were to fly off to Bombay, India on the 7th.
After a great few days in Kampong Cham we decided to head upriver to Kratie, a tiny town that mirrors Kampong Cham, only smaller. We wanted to take a boat from KC up the Mekong, a boat that used to run on a regular schedule, but has since been cancelled due to improved roads. With this news, we asked our tuk tuk driver to try and find us a boat, any boat that was headed upriver that we could hop on. He found one, for $5 that would take us about 1 hour north where we would have to get out and take motorcyle taxis another hout to Cholon where there was a bus station and take a taxi from there to Kratie. It sounded like a great adventure, but proved to be too much work for our road-weary bodies, and with the storm looming overhead, we thought it better to take a bus where we were guaranteed to stay dry.
In Kratie we quickly found a guesthouse, put our bags in our room, and headed out to find the CRDT, Cambodian Rural Development Team, to talk to them about the work they were doing with a small island community, and with the river dolphins. On our walk there the aforementioned storm decided to let loose, and we were stuck 10 minutes from our hostel, 10 minutes from the CRDT. This was by far the worst storm I've been in. The wind was so strong and rain so thick I could barely open my eyes to see. Huge branches from palm trees were flying down to the road, coconuts fell above our head, landing on the power lines and sparks were flying out onto the street. The rain lasted for a solid, relentless hour, forming puddles in the road halfway up my shin. We were running around like madmen trying to find our destination, but the house numbers were impossible to see. When the rain finally let up and we found the CRDT, we were met with a building with no electricity and little information of value to us. They only had 2.5 day trips, and we had only one day. We politely thanked the 21 year old university student for his help, and decided to head back to our hostel and go see the dolphins the next day.
We rented motorcycles to ride the 15km or so upriver to Kampi. Kampi is not so much a town as it is an area with stilt-homes built along the road. Here, hours away from the closest city, the Irrawaddy dolphin lives in the few deep pools that form along the Mekong River throughout the dry season. After a glorious swim in the Kampi Rapids area of the Mekong, we went to hire a boat to take us out on the water. For $5 each we got a boat for an hour with a lazy paddleman paddling us around, never moving too far from our port of departure. I wasn't sure how many if any dolphins we would see, but after only a few moments on the Mekong, we were treated to our first of many sightings. The Irrawaddy dolphins aren't as playful as bottlenose dolphins that will swim along boats in the ocean. The dolphins never came too close to the boat, and only come up quickly for air before diving back underwater, barely long enough to snap a photo. Their shyness isn't un warrented. During the 1970's while Vietnamese soldiers took control of the area it wasn't uncommon to spot them standing on shore or boats using the dolphins for target practice.
The locals also were fishing these waters with nets, often killing the dolphins, who do not make for a delicious meal themselves, and were often just wasted. This is one situation where tourism has had a beneficial effect. Because the dolphins prove to be a tourist attraction, drawing money to the small little town, the people there have a reason not to kill the dolphins. Net fishing has been banned, and groups like the CRDT are working with people teaching them effective ways to manage their environment, and alternative sources for food and income. Many people make dolphin carvings to sell to the tourists, and sell food and drinks to the throngs of people sweating in the hot sun waiting to see the endangered animals. Hopefully all of this will help save the dolphins, but there has to be more change. There are propsoals for dams in Laos upriver from Kampi that would most definitely wipe out the dolphins, and there is currently a high infant mortality rate among the calves. There are scientists studying the dolphins, looking for a solution, but if the mortality rate continues at its current levels, and the dams get built the Irrawaddy dolphin will dissapear forever.
If you would like to donate money to the crdt to help fund research and help the local people, go to http://www.crdt.org.kh/index.php?page=make-a-donation
I had read about the Irrawaddy Dolphins in a book that I bought in China about 10 months ago, and brought along with me to re-read as we traced some of the steps of the author. The book was written 10 years ago, and back then the author, Ed Gargan, says that the dolphins were almost extinct, so I had no idea if we would get to see any. We decided to take a bus from Phnom Penh to Kampong Cham and then take a boat to Kratie, and from there ride north along the river to go to the holding pools where the dolphins spend the dry season.
Kampong Cham, the provincial capital, is a small city butted right up against the wide, slow Mekong River. at less than 70,000 people it is the 3rd largest city in the country, although it certainly felt like a small town to us. We originally planned on staying the night and leaving first thing in the morning, but within 30 minutes of being there, all three of us decided we would like to stay an extra day. After the constant travel and headaches of Hanoi, Saigon, Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, this sleepy town seemed to be exactly what we were looking for: few fellow travellers, almost no touts or beggars, and a relaxing bar looking over the river.
We found our way to the Mekong Crossing Bar/Restaurant and sat down for a drink and dinner. We found out the owner was from Pennsylvania originally, although we didn't meet him until the next day. After reading a little bit about the area we decided to rent bicycles the next day (our little nod to Earth Day) and explore the area.
Just north of the town is a newly constructed Japanese built bridge (a rarity along the Mekong) and a little farther past that is a bamboo bridge. The bamboo bridge connects the mainland to an Paen Island where the Cham people live, an ethnic minority in Cambodia. Every year they rebuild the bamboo bridge at the start of dry season, and during wet season you have to take a fairy to the island. The Cham people on the Island are extremely poor, every house is built on stilts, and most have no electricity. The people were extremely nice, and happy to see foriegners. Every house we passed we were barraged with "hellos" from little children, some of who ran up to the street to meet us and wave. We rode bikes around the island for a couple hours, meeting streetside vendors, children and monks at a temple. It was a great experience and an incredible view into a culture that hasn't been profoundly affected by outside forces.
After riding back to town across the long bamboo bridge, we grabbed lunch at Mekong Crossing and talked to Joe, the owner. He has been in Cambodia for 10 years, 7 of them in Kampong Cham, and he has a wealth of knowledge about the area. We talked a little about what it's like to live in Cambodia, the language, the people etc... From where we were sitting, directly across the river was a three story red brick tower. It was built during the French Colonial times as a watchtower for the river. Legend has it that Hun Sen, the current Prime minister of Cambodia, lost his eye while fighting around this tower. After a good meal we headed out to ride across the new 2 lane bridge across the Mekong to check it out. Joe informed us that a few years ago a Frenchman paid $8000 to have the tower repaired, and steps installed to the top. The tower was still in disrepair, but we climbed up the steep ladder-stairs to the top anyway. We got an incredible view of the river and the city across from us. After our dangerous climb back down 3 stories we took off back across the bridge, where I got separated from Dave and Liz. I went back to the hotel to take a shower and then to the friendly confines of Joe's Mekong Crossing.
As I was sitting outside reading a man walked toward the restaurant, slightly resembling Mark Klein, who spoke to the owner's wife in fluent Khmer. He sat down inside and Joe's wife came over to me saying "That man American too, he from New York!" So I went over and asked if I could join him. Now when most travellers meet there are the generic questions of small talk that everyone goes through: Where are you from? How long have you been travelling, and for how much longer will you travel? etc... But with a middle aged man dressed in a button down shirt and slacks, speaking fluent Khmer, these questions are obsolete. Within a few moments he told me he was born in Europe to a military father, spent time in America, and Korea before leaving his family at the age of 16. HE travelled to Cambodia first in 1973, and has been here on and off since. We were soon joined by another man dressed in a Camel Cigarette safari shirt, his face bearing a strong resemblence to Geraldo. He was an Australian, and the two men were both very surprised to see eachother. Turns out that they are both employed by the UN, one for the Judges office and one for the Prosecutors. They were in Cambodia investigating murders that took place during the Genocide, and interviewing survivors, witnesses, and suspects. They had countless stories to tell and endless knowledge of the history of this country. I'll share one such story:
A man that the American investigator interviewed that day was born with no fingers on either hand, no toes on one foot, and the other leg footless. He was taken to a killing field in Kampong Cham, slammed with a club once to the temple and once to the back of the head before he fell into the pile of dead bodies in the mass grave below him. He waited until the soldiers were gone and he managed, with no fingers, toes, and only one foot, to climb out of the ditch and make it back to his village. Once back, he warned everyone there not to get into the trucks taking people to communist "re-education camps." Most Cambodian's were unaware exactly where all of their families were dissapearing to. He probably saved many lives of his fellow villagers in his incredible act defying all odds for an impaired person.
Everyone Cambodian, everyone, has a story like this one. If they were born after 1979, it is their parent's and gradnparent's and older sibling's stories, if they were born before 1979 it is thiers. Either way, it is these stories that shape the lives of Cambodians today. As Loung Ung says in her memoir "First They Killed My Father":
"From 1975 to 1979—through execution, starvation, disease, and forced labor—the Khmer Rouge systematically killed an estimated two million Cambodians, almost a fourth of the country's population. This is a story of survival: my own and my family's. Though these events constitute my own experience, my story mirrors that of millions of Cambodians. If you had been living in Cambodia during this period, this would be your story too."
I've gotten so caught up in the History of Cambodia, and my posts have been largely reflective of that. I'm going to steer away from the depressing parts of this country's history and present state, and write about some of the amazing things we have seen and done.
Our first three days after we left Phnom Penh were spent in Siem Reap, just a 4 hour drive north along the Tonle Sap River and the Tonle Sap (Great Lake) which is the largest freshwater lake in SE Asia.
We got a tuk tuk from the bus to take us to our hotel for free, as long as we agreed to use him to take us out to Angkor Wat. His name was Lida, a quiet little guy with that huge Khmer smile that most people have, and his english was pretty good. He became our driver for our first 2 days in Siem Reap.
Siem Reap isn't much of a town, and no one would go there if it weren't for what is found just a short ride away. Located just 5.5 km from the town is Angkor, the huge ancient center of all things Khmer. From the 9th-15th centuries this is where the Khmer Empire ruled from and built some of the world's most incredible buildings.
Our first night here we hiked up a trail to to top of a small mountain where we had a great view of the surrounding area. We made it up just before sunset, and although this was supposed to be one of the best spots for sunset, ours was mostly hidden by the clouds. Still a nice view and hike though.
After meeting up with Liz we arranged to have Lida pick us up at 5:15am to take us to Angkor Wat - the most famous temple in Angkor, and the country's national symbol - for sunrise.
The sun gave us a more spectacular showing than its sheepish descent the previous night. We spent a couple hours walking around the massive temple and its grounds, taking many pictures along the way. After Angkor Wat we went to Ta Phrom and Angkor Thom, two other areas from different centuries. We had a long hot day of walking around, but the temples were amazing and well worth the sweat put out to see them. There is obviously much history to be said about these places, but I'll spare the readers here.
On Sunday Dave, Liz and I got a tuk-tuk to take us out to Tuol Sleng (Strychnine Hill in English). Tuol Sleng was originally a High School, but during the Khmer Rouges rule they turned it into a prison where inmates were tortured until they confessed to crimes that they didn't commit. 17,000 prisoners passed through Tuol Sleng before eventually making their way to The Killing Fields. Only 12 known survivors of Tuel Sleng are known to have escaped death somehow.
Walking through the prison is a surreal experience. The tour starts off in torture cells that were once classrooms. On the wall is a picture of the dead prisoner how he was found in the room when the first photographer discovered Tuol Sleng in 1979. They're old and faded, but still very graphic. Walking through the torture cells, and the prison cells is extremely eerie and sad, really unexplainable.
It's hard to convey what this place is like, but its extremely moving, almost totally silent the few hours we were there. If you want to read more about it and see some pictures (most aren't gruesome i think) you can look at this site http://www.tuolsleng.com/photographs.php
The next morning we followed the prisoners trail out to what is generally known as "The Killing Fields", although there are hundres of killing fields all over the country, this is the most well known and visited. Again, it''s impossible to describe the feeling of this place, but to give you an idea: you start off by walking into a stupa with a glass case inside filled with human skulls filled about 50 feet high. Some were unprotected by glass, and as you walked around, you could see how brutally these people were killed. Most prisoners here were bludgeoned to death, bullets were too expensive. Skulls were cracked, smashed, and some had entire pieces missing. After you leave the Pagoda you walk from excavated mass grave to mass grave each with signs stating things like "Mass grave contained 120 women and children, all naked" or "Tree that soldiers used to beat babies against." Truly horrible. As you walk around the place you look down and notice that you are walking on human bones and clothing from the murdered victims, it's almost impossible to avoid, as there are bones everywhere, half exposed in the dirt beneath your feet.
As we left the Killing fields and walked back to our tuk tuk driver he said, with a slight smile on his face "It's very so sad. I lost four family members here, father, mother, brother and sister." He was the only survivor, somehow escaping the killing fields by hiding out and doing labor somewhere in the forests.
I could write forever about these two places we saw, but it would do no good. You have to be there to feel the experience. I had read a lot of different articles and books, and seen movies about these places and events, but nothing prepares you to see it first hand.
Some background history about Cambodia: (very breifly summarized)
Cambodia was under French rule from 1863 until 1953 when it gained its independence. During America's war in Vietnam and Laos, Cambodia remained neutral until the king was kicked out of power in a military cout in 1970 by Lon Nol, who was backed by the USA. At this time America was dropping bombs on the Cambodian/Vietnam border, driving the Vietnamese deeper into Cambodia. The American bombings gave the Khmer Rouges a boost in popularity which led to them kicking out Lon Nol and eventually taking over Cambodia. Many factors led up to their rise to power, but I'll let Spalding Gray elloquently sum it up: "So five years of bombing, a diet of bark, bugs, lizards and leaves up in the Cambodian jungles, an education in Paris environs in a strict Maoist doctrine with a touch of Rousseau, and other things that we will probably never know about in our lifetime. Including perhaps an invisible cloud of evil that circles the Earth and lands at random in places like Iran, Beirut, Germany, Cambodia, America, set the Khmer Rouge out to commit the worst auto-homeo genocide in modern history."
From 1975-1979 the Khmer Rouges brutally killed anywhere from 1-3 million fellow Cambodians, in a country with a population of about 11 million.
From 1979-1993 Cambodia's Government went through many changes, and is now basically run by a king and 2 Prime Ministers, all vying for power with Hun Sen, a Vietnamese appointed PM leading the way.
I have been interested in Cambodia since my freshman year English Teacher Matt Sigal showed the film "Swimming to Cambodia" by Spalding Gray. It is Gray's retelling of his time spent filming "The Killing Fields," a movie from 1984. The movie was about Dith Pran, a Cambodian photographer, journalist and interpreter for Sydney Schanberg, New York Times reporter. Long story short: Dith is forced to stay in Cambodia while Schanberg goes back to the US, Schanberg Comes back a few years later and finds him, Dith moved to America where he became a photo journalist for the New York Times winning many awards, and starting an organization to make the world aware of the Genocide that happened in Cambodia. Dith Pran died on March 30th, just a few weeks ago.
We got into Cambodia on April 17th at the end of the week long New Years celebration. Our bus into Phnom Penh from Ho Chi Minh City was at least 5 hours late due to traffic waiting for a ferry to take cars, buses, motorbikes and people across the Mekong River. There are only 3 Ferries running at once, each probably capable of holding 2 buses and 10-20 cars, with thousands of cars and buses lined up for miles waiting.
While waiting in standstill traffic we got off the bus to go walk around. We were immediately swarmed with little children, some trying to sell stuff, others asking for my can of coke. Other children would simply walk up to us with their palms together in a prayer position and just look at us. It was quickly clear that this country was extremely poor.
Cambodia is indeed a very sad country to be in. The effects of the war can be seen everywhere. The poverty is as bad as anywhere I've ever seen, probably much worse in fact.
The killing of millions of Cambodians, not so long ago, mean many things in this country are different than anywhere else in the world. The Khmer Rouges targeted the wealthy, the educated and the skilled. So after the war the people who moved back to the cities were uneducated farmers or laborers. The country is understandably riddled with depression, post traumatic stress syndrom, and other mental health issues due to the war, but there are basically no psychiatrists to help these people, so they go to a quack doctor who sells them whatever medicine he wants, often fake, and they take whatever they're given which provides either no help, or harms them more.
The population looks different here than anywhere else as well. 50% of the population is under 25 years old, the average age here is 20. The women over 65 outnumber the men almost 2:1, and the younger population is outweighed by females, although not as heavily.
Cambodia is one of the most landmined countries in the world. Over 60,000 civilians have died since 1970 from unexploded orndances, thousand of others are left wounded, with arms or legs amputated. Most resort to begging on the streets, while a few try to sell books or do something rather than beg.
The terrible poverty and lack of jobs for the unskilled and uneducated leads many girls into prostitution, easily noticable by the scores of 50+ year old men walking aruond with young pretty asian girls. Some sad facts: "in 1999 that more than 15% of prostitutes were from nine to 15 years of age, and that 78% of these girls were Vietnamese; the remainder Cambodian citizens.Surveys indicate that 30 to 35% of all sex workers in Cambodia are between 12 and 17 years old. Minors, some as young as 7 constitute more than 25% of the prostitution in Cambodia."
For all that they have gone through, and for the conditions they are forced to live in, the Cambodian people are extremely nice people, always smiling or laughing. Even the poorest barefoot children begging on the streets seem happy, as hard as that is to imagine. This country is still a very young one, which basically started from scratch only a couple decades ago. There is alot of work to be done here, many NGOs and volunteer opportunities, and it is definitely a place I would like to come back to in the future when I have more time to spend here and can possibly help make a change.
We spent the last day in Hoi An going to the Marble Mountains and China Beach. Marble Mountains. have some incredible Stone carved Buddhas inside of caves in the mtn. and China Beach was a nice beach, also where the US Army took their R&R trips during the war.
We met a friend at the restaurant/bar we had been to 2 nights in a row named Byo. He was our waiter, a real friendly guy. Dave invited him to come along with us to the beach and mountain the next day, and he said sure, he'd meet us at our hostel in the morning. When we woke up he was there waiting. He had his own motorbike, Dave had his, and I shared one with my friend Theresa on the back. We treated Byo for lunch and his entrance to the Marble Mtns. We had a great day with him, thought he had a good time too. As we left the beach to head back to town he stops us and says "How bout tip for me?" Not only did we think we were just hanging out with a new friend, and treating him, the guy didn't do anything to remotely deserve a tip. No tour guiding, no directions, no translating, he jsut came along with us and wanted money for being graced by his presence. Needless to say we didn't give him anything.
After Hoi An we took the 12 hour overnight bus to Nha Trang, a nice little city with a nice beach, nothing much more to say about it. It was our last night with our travel mates Pascal and Hildegard from Holland and Belgium.
We took off after one day there to go to Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh City. Saigon was a pretty nice city, really big, really busy, but had a good feel to it. I met one of my good friends from college Beth Leri's older brother for a drink at his apt. and then dinner at a place called Ba Mien. Aaron has been in Vietnam for 3 years now and said he can't see himself moving back to the States anytime soon. A realization not uncommon with Ex-Pats in Asia with the current economic situation in the US. Dinner was great, and he treated which was nice. The next day we were to head off to Phnom Penh, Cambodia.
Vietnam was a great country, we were there for 2 full weeks, saw a lot, experienced a lot and had an amazing time, but I was really ready to leave when we did. The people in Vietnam really take a toll on travelers. Everywhere you go, every step you take, someone is there ready to sell you something, usually something you don't need. You can't even look at a person on the street and give them a friendly smile without them saying "hello, you buy something sir." as a statement, not a question. You can't ask anyone for directions, because everyone is either a motorcycle driver that will only tell you if you take his bike, or they are selling the same thing you need. For instance, if you want to find a good restaurant, you can't ask the people at your guesthouse because they sell food, and they want to know why you don't just eat there. It's just mentally exhausting feeling that everyone around you is there to exploit you, not help you. You have to be skeptical with every taxi ride or purchase, you can't afford to be trusting, most of the time.
That all said, I'm sure I didn't see the best parts of Vietnam, we went to big cities, tourist attractions etc... where the touts and exploiters are. I'm sure I'll be back to Vietnam, but I want to go see the less traveled areas, meet the real Vietnamese people not dependent on the tourism dollar as their livelihood. It is really a beautiful country, with many beautiful people, it's just sad that most travelers probably only see the tourism side of the country.
I was really shocked that there is absolutely no anti-American feelings, at least that we ran into, in Vietnam. You would think with some of the terrible heinous crimes that American soldiers committed during the war - a war that only ended 33 years ago - there would be some people who truly hated Americans. It seems to be quite the opposite though. I think they have completely put the war behind them, and concentrate on the present and future. If Americans can give them money, why should they not welcome us? Everywhere you look there are references to the war, in the strangest places: Bars in every city named Apocalypse Now, or Good Morning Vietnam, or some other pop culture reference to the Vietnam War. Vietnamese people seem to not think about the war at all, or at least they don't dwell on it and let it change their views now.
After dinner with Aaron, we went back to our place to go to sleep, to wake up early the next day for a 6 hour bus ride to Phnom Penh. Because it was the Khmer New Years here, we ended up sitting in traffic for 5 extra hours, taking us 11 hours to get to Phnom Penh. It was a great city from the day and night we had there, and we're heading back after Siem Reap, where I am now. I'll write about Cambodia after we leave here. Dave and I are waiting for my ol' PSU pal Liz P. to get here.
Our last day in Hue we decided to rent motor bikes again. We checked out the Citadel and the Forbidden City. Next we went rode along the Perfume River to the Thien Mu Pagoda, the temple which the monk Thich Quang Duc belonged to. He entered the history books on June 11, 1963 when he drove from Hue to Saigon in a blue Austin car, got out at a busy intersection, sat down lit himself on fire and burned to death in protest of the Diem Regime. That car is now on display at the Thien Mu Pagoda. Pretty powerful.
David Halberstam, a well known journalist was there to witness the self immolation. He wrote:
"Flames were coming from a human being; his body was slowly withering and shriveling up, his head blackening and charring. In the air was the smell of burning human flesh; human beings burn surprisingly quickly. Behind me I could hear the sobbing of the Vietnamese who were now gathering. I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think... As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him."
I'm in Hoi An now, which is a nice little town just 4 hours drive south of Hue. It's known for making good quality clothes at low prices, but I think I'm going to pass on that for now.
Tonight we're enrolled in a cooking class, learning how to make 3 different Vietnamese dishes. Should be a good time, and hopefully a delicious meal.
