Battambang

Day 35: B is for “bamboo train,” C is for “circus”

I had heard of the bamboo train before, but didn't really know what it was until watching an episode of "No Reservations," a show where Anthony Bourdain (a famous chef, sometimes a judge on Top Chef if you're not familiar) travels to different countries or specific cities to try different kinds of food and dishes that are made around the world. In the Cambodia episode, he rode the bamboo train, and having skipped Battambang the last time I was in Cambodia, I knew I had to try it this time around. We've been battling quite a bit of rain, so after warning Andrew I wanted to do it rain or shine, he agreed, as long as we waited the morning shower out over coffee and breakfast at Sunrise Coffee House.

I could totally relate to this cartoon drawn on the wall of the coffee shop, which was, I have to admit, devine. Walking in, it smelled like freshly baked bread (a foreign scent to us these days) and I was in heaven eating a (freshly baked) bagel breakfast sandwich. Please indulge me in these few photos I took, again, excited by really good western food. I know, I know, you probably get to eat this all the time!

David (our tuk tuk driver from the day before) must have been busy, because his cousin showed up to take us out to the bamboo train instead. Slightly disappointed not to play along with David's jokes, but excited to ride the bamboo train, we climbed in our new tuk tuk for the "train station."

The bamboo train is essentially a 3 meter bamboo plank/platform that rests upon two train axels which are connected to a gasoline engine that rolls down old French tracks. This is how Cambodians in the countryside get from one place to another. I was looking forward to the ride mostly for who we would share the ride with- you know, those who ride it daily hauling vegetables or animals from their home to the market or something fun and likely entertaining like that. I wanted to sit next to some caged pigs and maybe have a few chickens at my feet. We must have gone at the wrong time, or more likely, we were taken to the tourist portion of the track. Nevertheless, it was still fun and it ran surprisingly fast! Andrew told me that he read that farmers would volunteer to drive after working in the fields in the morning. Our conductor was so sweet humoring me everytime I turned around with my camera. Isn't he the cutest? I also love how we got him in our "selca" (that's Korean speak for self-camera) picture.

After a 15 minute ride, we slowed down and were greeted by a handful of children out of school for the day interested in showing us the rice factory in their village. Weary of their interest in showing us (perhaps pushed by their parents?) the factory, we played along instead of sitting in the scarf shop for our ten minute village visit we were told we would have. I can now say I know what kind of rice is for people, what kind of rice is for chickens, and what kind of rice is for pigs. Seriously, each child told each of us at least twice.

Walking back to our bamboo train, the smallest asked Andrew for $1.00 for each of them. Once again, I felt so conflicted. What do you do? Do you say "No! And tell your mother not to pimp you out!" or do you aquiesce and give each child $1.00? Knowing that you are enabling child slavery in Cambodia? Or do you do what Andrew did, and fish one $1.00 bill out and make the smallest child promise to share it with everyone? When we got back to our train, their grandmother (I'm assuming) who owned the scarf shop invited us to sit down and gave us bananas while we waited. An "Ok, what's next? Do you want $1.00 for the bananas too?" feeling washed over me, until she sat back and started laughing as the little girls complimented my white skin while I offered to trade it for their beautifully dark tanned skin. And then immediately as we chatted with the girls, I felt guilty for wondering what their grandmother "wanted" from me. It's like you have to read every situation with a slightly guarded, yet completely open mind. Something that is hard to do. After Andrew asked the girls to help with his video, they told us to please tip our conductor. They told us urgently that they don't get paid and they have to feed their families. Again, the red flags hovered in the back of my mind. Like they themselves were unsure if they should be raised or not. When Andrew tipped him (I much rather tip an adult than a child) another driver seemed to tease him in Cambodian and it seemed like something of a surprise to him, but one that made him immensely happy. Which, of course, made me happy we did tip him.

We climbed back on the train and made our way back to the "station." On the way back, we slowed as we met another bamboo train with tourists on it heading towards us. The general rule of thumb is the train with the least amount of passengers (unless you are toting a motorcycle along with you) gets off, the train is disassembled, and the more full train passes by. We were told to get off (presumably because there were two trains back to back) while the tourists chided us that they "won." We all laughed and took pictures and video of the process, completely intrigued by the ease of it all. When we ran into some more trains later down the track, we got to stay on, while others had to get off. Again, I would have appreciated some more livestock to be a part of the process, but settled for watching other tourists. 

Back in town, we strolled through the market. I bought a coffee maker – Cambodian style for $0.50 and took lots of pictures of buttons and beads.

And then… we went to the circus! One of my new favorite aspects of this trip is learning of the various NGOs or even businesses that provide sustainability or opportunities to impoverished people, young people to be more specific. Gecko Cafe paid all employment taxes to their employees (something that was insinuated is not often done) and other more life-skills. Phare Ponleu Selpak (PPS) teaches circus, theater, art, and music skills to young people around Battambang. Two nights a week, there is a circus performance. There's a gallery for art you can walk through before the show, and a restaurant you can eat or drink in after the show, and there's a magic box for donations to help students currently in Canada pay for their studies and housing. The performance was amazing. The enthusiasm that these performers displayed was overwhelming, and their talent (and flexibility) was jaw-dropping. Andrew had a little bit of a hard time watching some of the girls morph into pretzels, while I simply wanted to join their circus by curtain call! We think we were supposed to watch a different performance than the one we ended up seeing, so we're not completely sure of the storyline, but it was great nonetheless and if you find yourself in Battambang, go to the circus!

By the way, this dude was on unicycle the whole time another dude was balancing on his head. We were in the front row, so I unfortunately couldn't get the unicycle into the shot. But seriously, imagine doing that on a unicycle!

These boys were the CUTEST. They did a few different skits that revolved around how masculine or strong they were, yet they hammed it up so it was hilarious watching them prove themselves to each other or to the girls that took the stage. This skit was something of a battle where the boys tried to prove themselves to the girls. They climbed up on top of each other, or jumped up and landed on a pair of shoulders and then tumbled into flips and somersaults onto the floor while the girls balanced on each other like pretzels. In the end the girls giggled, kissed each other and then the boys had a conniption that the girls were never interested in them in the first place.

Day 34: That’s a lot of bats!

After we busted a move out of our asylum - just kidding (kinda) - hotel, we were relieved to be given a warm welcome at the hotel around the corner. Fresh fruit and a front desk clerk who carries my backpack up four flights of stairs is always a good sign of a decent hotel, right? Another sure sign Battambang was going to be good to us (despite the rain) was the most wonderful cafe we ducked into to avoid the downpour around lunchtime. Maybe it was because all I had to eat were some roasted bananas at a rest stop on our way the day before, but I was elated over an extremely delicious Mexican coffee (who knew?!) and a fresh Greek salad. Oh, and the cream cheese filled wontons didn't hurt either.

After a lazy lunch, we phoned up a tuk tuk driver and made our way to see the bats. This is really all I was prepared to see, I naively thought the name "Killing Cave" was related to the bats, not the Khmer Rouge. Despite our "guide" unable to speak English, I quickly picked up on what the caves (more than one) were used for. We walked through a Buddhist wat to get to the trail leading back to at least one of the caves. From what I've gathered online, part of the wat contained a hall where people were kept until they were killed. It's a strange, strange feeling to face so many skulls lined up in front of you. There are so many more at the Killing Fields outside of Phnom Penh, but it leaves you with the same disgust at the atrocities the Khmer Rouge got away with. "This feels wrong." Andrew said, closing up his camera. And I agreed, but responded "Don't you think people need to see this, though?" Until I visited Cambodia, and bought a bootlegged copy of "First They Killed My Father" I had no idea who Pol Pot was, let alone what the Khmer Rouge did for so many years. I am the first to admit that I used to automatically associate Angkor Wat with Cambodia, when really there is so much more to this country… So, I guess this is my way of apologizing for some morbid pictures that I took, not to be a tourist, but to share what I'm seeing and how wrong it was to have happened. And perhaps, similarly, happening elsewhere today.

After the Killing Cave, we biked further up Phnom Sampeau to see the view and the wat at the top. Monkeys tried to shake the last drop of coke out of a can, or steal bags from tourists. I tend to shy away from the monkeys after a bad experience in Bali, we also couldn't stay long because we didn't want to miss the bats flying out of their cave for their night feeding. Had our guides told us the bats fly out of the cave for a solid hour, we wouldn't have rushed back down the hill.

There was already a steady stream of bats flying out of the cave when we got down to the base of the hill. I was expecting more of a grandiose viewing than the one we had. Not that it wasn't impressive, because it was… But we were further away than I had anticipated, and while I didn't expect to reach out and be able to touch a bat or two, I thought that it would be a little more scary than looking up and saying "Oh that's cool… I guess…" as thousands of bats flew in a steady stream out to the fields to (hopefully) gobble up any and all mosquitoes in their path. We watched for ten minutes or so, took pictures of far away bats, and then climbed in the tuk tuk to go back to the center of town just before it started raining again.

On our way back to town, our driver asked if we minded if he stop at home to change his clothes. We said sure, and were welcomed into his wife's family home to look at his wedding photos while we waited for him to change. We have now come to hesitate when situations like this one arise, not sure if his family sells something out of their house and we'll be expected to buy one or two, or if it's a ploy to make us commit to a few more days with him as a driver. We sat and looked through his elaborate traditional Cambodian wedding photos, while his wife cut up some fruit for us, and he changed his clothes. He thanked us for giving him a job today, and then my heart melted and I immediately felt like a terrible person for wondering what his motivation was for bringing us to his home. When he dropped us off, we made loose plans to see him tomorrow, and he gave us his journal full of testimonials about what a great driver he was from other passengers. We said goodbye, and I immediately started thinking of cheesy jokes to write in his journal for him to use on his next passengers. (That was kinda his schtick) 

Day 33: Kampot to Battambang

Another day spent on a bus. It could have been worse, but the rain – the downpour – didn't make our 2 hour stopover in Phnom Penh any fun. We got into Battambang late in the evening and we were immediately greeted by a swarm of tuk tuk drivers. Exhausted, we settled on a hotel that could have easily doubled as a mental asylum with its empty white tiled walls, florescent lighting, and creepsters lurking in the hallways.