Day 41: 24 Hours of Tuk Tuks, Buses, & 1 Train to Laos

We could have flown. That would have been much easier than the 24 hours of travel time it took to get from Siem Reap to Vientiane. Flying would have also been much (much) more expensive than our tuk tuk, bus, train adventure. In case you haven't figured it out by now with the expense reports at the end of each post, we're trying to keep to a budget mostly so we can afford this whole year of adventures. The lower the daily average, the more likely we'll last until Thanksgiving of 2013. So deciding between a $250 (at the absolute lowest) flight and a $25 (roughly) day of transit, we chose the latter. Aside from the three hour wait at the Thai side of the border, the day really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Andrew says the three hour wait (it was ridiculously hot) was the worst part of our trip so far… but he wasn't sick on an overnight Vietnamese bus, so I can't agree.

9:00 AM mini-bus ride to Poipet (Cambodia/Thai border)…$5.00 

12:00 PM border crossing (longest border crossing of my life by the way)

3:00 PM tuk tuk to Aranyathapet, Thailand for a bus to Khorat…$1.30

6:00 PM bus to Khorat (also known as Nakhon Ratchasima)…$6.86

10:00 PM tuk tuk to Khorat train station…$0.98

11:30 PM train to Nong Khai, Thailand (Thai/Laos border)…$12.02

7:00 AM tuk tuk to Thai/Laos border…$0.98

8:30 AM bus across Mekong River to Laos side…$0.65

9:00 AM bus to downtown Vientiane…$0.75

9:30 AM tuk tuk to coffee shop in Vientiane to call/meet Hans…$0.62

(Unfortunately it seems as though Lightroom lost (or, more accurately, while trying to import my images in an organized fashion I lost) tonight's picture of us trying to sleep in a bright florescent lit (all night long folks) over air-conditioned train car. Sorry, I'm sure this annoys you as much as it does me.)

Day 40: Our Last Day in Siem Reap

Our last day in Siem Reap was spent mostly waiting out the rain in the same coffee shop down the street from our guesthouse. We went to the market for some concrete bag bags (obviously, I wanted to do this more so than Andrew). Thai concrete comes in these sturdy bags with a big elephant on the front. Someone came up with a brilliant idea of repurposing the bags into wearable totes, ipad covers, wallets, you name it. They are quite cute, and I felt like I was playing a round of Texas Hold Em bartering and bluffing over prices in the market. I got a big, plastic covered tote for $5.00 (she started at $10.00) Winning! Linda helped me find a good massage salon before dinner, and then we wandered through the night markets thinking they'd be more elaborate than those in the day – but really, they were same same (not different at all).

Day 39: Angkor Wat

You would probably think that the day we would go to Angkor Wat would not begin with three hours working in a coffee shop, but it did. We spent the morning and a bit of the early afternoon working, instead of waking up to see the sunrise over Angkor. Our friends (and as was the case in the past) said that there were SO. MANY. TOURISTS. there for sunrise, it didn't sound like a pleasant experience to me at all. So we left for Angkor Wat somewhere between 2 and 3 in the afternoon and casually made our way through the temple. We stopped often to sit and take in the view or people watch. We climbed up to the top only when there was no line. And then we got kicked out at closing and we were able to just as casually make our way out with much less of a crowd around. Fact: Temples are much better sans tourists (especially of the group variety). Also, a quiet sunset is much more lovely than a loud sunrise.

Did you know that Angkor Wat is the largest Hindu temple complex in the world? I didn't. I also didn't know that it was dedicated to Vishnu (a beautifully preserved statue is in one of the main entrances to the complex, as you can see above), the Hindu god also known as the 'preserver of the universe.' I refused to buy a book on Angkor Wat this time around, because I have a feeling I bought exact same one four years ago, and it is currently sitting on one of my shelves at my parents' home- so I had to rely on the internets to jog my memory of the history of the complex. According to Wikipedia, much of the construction (by King Suryavarman II in the early 12th century) is based around Hindu mythology but in the late 13th century, it moved to Buddhism, as it currently stands today. Not to get super religious on y'all, but I think it's fascinating that a Hindu temple can change to be a Buddhist one. Does that happen with other religious sites without war breaking out? I tried several times to get into a World Religions class in college, but it would always fill up before I had a chance to register. I'm anxious to read more about Buddhism and Hinduism (especially before we hit India) so if you have any suggestions, please let me know!

Monkeys roamed outside of the temple, trying to sneak water and plastic bags away from tourists. Inside of the temple, people were everywhere. The most frustrating part is wondering what it is going to be like in another four years… I shudder just thinking about it. I don't remember the top of the temple being open for visitors when Jane and I were there last, though, and it was fun to see a new view of the complex and have a more intimate visit with the bas relief sculptures when most of the tourists cleared out near closing time.

I was especially drawn to the bas reliefs of the apsaras and devatas. These dancing girls or nymphs are derived from Indian mythology- again, I love how an Indian myth was incorporated into Khmer architecture. 

On our way out of the temple, a man standing guard in front of an altar asked if I wanted to bow in front of it. "For good luck!" he called after me. For good luck AND a dollar, I wanted to respond. Instead, I held up both wrists clad with good luck strings and said "I have lots of good luck already!" and he smiled. I was relieved and glad to walk back through an almost empty temple, mostly so Andrew could have a feel for what it was like. Hoards of tourists distract me. (I'm working on this) I don't like how much it takes away from the immensity and/or beauty of a place when people are bumping into you or yelling out to their companions. In the halls and standing outside the walls sans crowd, it's easier to feel small and in awe of what kind of work went into the structure so long ago, and how well it's held up over time.

Outside of the complex, we were immediately confronted by a 10 (maybe 12?) year old boy selling post-cards with a t-shirt on that read "I could be your son." "Where did you get that shirt?" I asked him, laughing at his unique um, marketing skills? He shrugged, yet with a smile in his eyes I could tell he was little amused that I was calling him out on wearing it to a tourist site to sell postcards. "Shouldn't you be playing or studying or something right now?" I asked him. "I studied this morning. You want postcards?" He responded, possibly rolling his eyes. I have to admit, four years ago, children were EVERYWHERE begging for money, selling bracelets, drawing pictures for you in hopes of a tip. Now, the only children you'll see are strictly selling either post-cards or bracelets. It felt like progress, even though they obviously shouldn't be selling anything at all…

One child vendor worked the "downtown" streets of Siem Reap selling bracelets and roses. Her name is Linda, or Srey Neang (I might have the spelling wrong on her Cambodian name) and took a liking to Andre, and then me and Andrew. Linda is 12 years old, speaks English really well, and has more spunk than any 12 year old I've ever met. She was out every night, and would usually spot us eating and come up to our table, not asking if we wanted to buy a bracelet, but instead would chat with us and more likely than not, call Andre out on his late night antics at Angkor What? bar. Over the four days we chatted with her, we learned that she lives with her mother, grandmother, and sister. Her mother sells mangoes. Her father died, though we're not sure when or how. She wants to be a teacher when she grows up, and sadly, her friend was ran into by a car while he was biking home one of the days we were there and did not survive. To say our hearts melted when she told us was an understatement.

Again, I wrestled with the "Do I break down and buy a bracelet (or her whole basket of bracelets) or not?" conundrum. I didn't. She didn't seem to mind, and was content playing with my hair and hugging on me, which was sweet, even though part of me felt like an asshole for not "helping her out" even though in the back of my mind I know it's not necessarily helping her at all… Or would it be? See… It's hard. What would you do? My concerns were calmed seeing how well Linda was looked after. If she dropped a bracelet, a waitress at the nearest restaurant would come over and pick it up for her, and they rarely shooed her away from tables when she was chatting with us or trying to sell to others. One night, a policeman snuck up on her and took her roses out of her basket. Andrew and I felt terrible we didn't see him in time to warn her to hide. She told us not to worry, that he would give them back to her an hour later.

Day 38: Ta Prohm is still my favorite

We started out at Angkor Thom, Andrew indulged me recreating a few pictures I took four years ago in the exact same broken archway of a wall in Bayon, before we meandered through Baphoun (it's a little on the boring side) through the Terrace of Elephants until we ended our first day at the temples at Ta Prohm, also known as the jungle temple, also known as the Tomb Raider temple. It's my favorite.  

When I left Korea (for the first time) in 2008, I spent roughly 2 months traveling around S.E. Asia on my own. It was probably the most amazing experience of my entire life – that is up until what is already proving to be some stiff competition traveling around with Andrew right now! I met Jane in my first city, Hanoi and had a lovely time, mostly getting lost around the city. I was overjoyed when we met back up in Siem Reap, and then again in Chang Mai. Not only is it pretty awesome meeting so many new people as you travel, but it's exponentially better when you make plans to meet in a different city, or as sometimes happens, you run into each other randomly in a different country! Spending the day exploring the temples with Jane was really great, and by far so much less crowded than it was exploring with Andrew today! Regardless of the crowds, we managed to get some pretty fun pictures.

Angkor Thom means 'Great City' and survived more than any other Khmer city or temple during the Khmer Empire. It's impressive in a different way than Angkor Wat is. You drive over this bridge that is lined with huge giant faces, that are replicated on the gates and within the city and temple structures themselves.

Bayon, or Prasat Bayon is at the center of the city. Built by King Jayavarman VII, it was his official state Buddhist temple. After his death, subsequent kings changed the temple according to their own religious preferences- between Hindu and Buddhist. The faces of Bayon are thought to be Jayavarman himself, but I don't think that is a proven fact. It's interesting to me that everyone automatically thinks of Angkor Wat as the hero of the temples surrounding Siem Reap. While it is obviously impressive, I think Angkor Thom and Ta Prohm should be equally revered, perhaps for how different, yet equally impressive they are.

Because Bayon is a more compact temple, and the heat was maddening, we sat at the top for awhile in the shade of one of the many great faces. We chatted with a tour guide waiting for his tour of one who was taking pictures and laughed as he poked fun at the different nationalities of visitors to Siem Reap. His French accent was spot on, and his obvious disdain for Korean tourists was predictable. No offense Korea, but when you're in a big group traveling, you kinda act like you're still in Korea and everyone around you should readily understand and allow your ridiculous behavior. I'm talking to you ajjushi smoking IN A TEMPLE next to a NO SMOKING SIGN! (I almost yelled at him in Korean, but wasn't quite up for the 'ooohs and ahhhs' of a foreigner speaking Korean- outside of Korea nonetheless) We stopped outside of Baphoun to take a few (cheesy? yes please!) pictures!

Baphoun is a Hindu temple inside of Angkor Thom. Baphoun can be summed up rather accurately as "a whole bunch of steep stairs." There used to be a reclining Buddha, but it wasn't there, and I'm not certain if anyone knows exactly why it isn't there now. It's suggested that because of the unstable land (apparently it was built on land filled sand) is the cause of parts of the temple collapsing.

Hot and sticky, we walked past the Elephant Terrace, straight to our driver so we could have more time at Ta Prohm. I was immediately struck by how many vendors there were, how few children there were, and how much restoration has taken place in the last four years. In a way, approaching the temple was a bit unrecognizable as so many wooden walkways have been set up and SO MANY TOURISTS were there! When Jane and I went, maybe ten other people were there, and we were largely able to do what we wanted in the temple. We sat for awhile and listened to the birds (at least that hasn't changed!) and were barely interrupted by other visitors. This time around, large tour groups marched through. Wooden platforms were set up in front of trees for more "ideal" photo opportunities. And vendors were set up inside the temple!

Despite all of the changes (not necessarily for the better) we were still able to slip deeper into the temple where the tour groups seemed to skip over.

The same king who built Bayon, established Ta Prohm as a Buddhist monastery and university, so it seemed fitting that I was able to sneak a shot of two monks sitting outside of the temple on our way out the East entrance. I thought I was going a little crazy remembering it in such a different state, but it turns out that in 2010, India began restoring the temple by clearing out bushes and shrubbery and building the (hideous) wooden walkways and platforms that totally take away from the jungle temple experience I had four years ago. It's still my favorite. I just hope India chills with the restoration efforts so Ta Prohm doesn't lose anymore of it's charm. 

Day 37: A Lazy Day with Andre

Full disclosure: we stayed out a little too late with Andre (but not as late as he wanted us to!) the night before. Fifty cent beers y'all! And while I did not get kicked out of Angkor What? bar this time around, (it wasn't my fault, I swear) I did bust a move in the club with my backpack on. I'm sexy and I know it! (er, not really, at all.) So, when we got up, our plan was to have sandwiches at Cafe de la Paix because I read this awesome review. Unfortunately the cafe has since been relocated, and after an hour looking, we barely escaped a downpour at a Cambodian restaurant and then decided we'd save the temples for tomorrow. Instead we got ice cream, wandered through the market, and the boys stayed out at night, while I escaped "home" only to have the electricity cut out. Later, we learned the electricity cuts out every night when Siem Reap switches from Thai electric to Cambodian or vice versa. The girl who told us, a bartender on Pub Street (or maybe it was her friend working on her thesis? I forget which) said she imagined a Cambodian man in front of a wall of switches turning one set on and then another set off every night. Once she said that, I too imagined that was what was going on everytime everything went pitch black for a second -or more.

Day 36: Six hours to Siem Reap

Andrew was all about this boat ride. It was six hours and $20.00 (about three hours longer and $15.00 more expensive than the bus) but he heard it was worth it, and so we went to Siem Reap by boat. Because it's currently monsoon (or rainy) season, the trip was 2-3 hours shorter because we could shortcut through the flood plains. This meant narrow channels, branches brushing up against the nylon window cover and boats barely being able to pass each other, and an overwhelming appreciation it wasn't raining. We chatted with an Australian family, we lounged on the roof of the boat, and we took lots of pictures and videos of the "floating villages" we passed through. And then, the best part of the day: we tracked down our friend, Andre, waiting for us in Siem Reap!

When we were approaching the dock, Andrew and I were lounging on the roof of the boat. He scurried down a little bit faster than myself, so we were docking while I was midair jumping down from the roof into the small stairwell into the boat. Simultaneous to my mid-air suspension, a hoard of men rushed the boat in such a flurry that I wondered who was trying to sneak drugs into Siem Reap. All wearing the same shirt, I watched wide-eyed as I settled my feet onto the boat and then was accosted: "You want tuk tuk?" They weren't policemen busting a big drug deal, they were simply tuk tuk drivers completely oblivious to the madness they were creating on board, not even waiting for us to get off the boat! One man was furious, and yelled at the tuk tuk driver who was immediately to my right. The tuk tuk driver rolled his eyes and asked me if I wanted a tuk tuk. "No way dude!" I responded, "You nearly knocked me off of the boat. There's no way I'm going anywhere with you!" Obviously unaware we already had a driver and a room waiting for us, he morphed into the diva he was born to be and just short of snapping his fingers at me, he responded: "See if you get a ride or a hotel in Siem Reap then!"

Momma, you asked what a tuk tuk was, this is it: (Ours conveniently broke down on the way into town, so I took the opportunity to snap a picture for you)

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.

Day 32: Bokhor National Park; “Where’s the waterfall?”

"You can go up the mountain, some friends of mine have been, and their pictures are really pretty… but I can't be bothered." Our new friend Matt from NFO said in our Kampot briefing before we left Takeo. After our little adventure up the mountain that holds the ghost town of Bokhor within the Preah Moivong National Park, I can kinda see why he can't be bothered. We should have known better when our mini-bus picked us up at 8:30 in the morning only to drive us 3 minutes to the tour guide agency, where the owner of the agency opened the mini-bus door and greeted us with a big smile asking us to come inside so she could tell us something. This is when you know you're probably not going to have the day you planned (and paid) for.

Sure enough, she told us our tour was canceled. We could go on the tour tomorrow (not possible, we are leaving tomorrow, we explained) or go up to the hill station on motorbikes, or get our money back. There's not much to do in Kampot itself, and as much as I love hanging out at a cafe for hours on end (really, I do!) I was starting to feel like we were in a weird cycle of bus-hotel-cafe that I wanted to break. We decided to go, if we could each have our own motorbike. Which was agreed to, until one of the motorbikes was manual and neither of us are super confident with a manual bike yet. James, if you're reading this: we must practice more in England over Easter. 

The ride up to the hill station of Bokhor (established by the French in the 1920's) was nice. I'm not usually one for riding on the back of a motorbike (I prefer my own) but it was nice to be able to rest against Andrew and gaze out over the sprawling scenery as we climbed (and climbed and climbed) the mountain. It took about 40 minutes or so to get there, and in retrospect, we could have easily found the park- and the hill station on our own. We had anticipated our "guides" telling us about the site, but instead, he would walk us to one place, and then take us through the (muddy) shortcut to get to the other, where he sat outside eating his lunch while we explored.

The view from the top. (These were taken directly behind the old casino.) Everything you see that's green (jungle) is part of the National Park. There's a lot of illegal logging done however, if caught and you don't have money, you go to jail. Otherwise, you can get off by slipping the officers some money. We heard lots of monkey calls and were told elephants roamed freely. According to Wikipedia: The town was built as a resort by the colonial French settlers to offer an escape from the heat, humidity and general insalubrity of Phnom Penh.[1]Nine hundred lives were lost in nine months during the construction of the resort in this remote mountain location. The centrepiece of the resort was the grand Bokor Palace Hotel & Casino, complemented by shops, a post office (now demolished), a church and the Royal Apartments. It is also an important cultural site, showing how the colonial settlers spent their free time. Bokor Hill was abandoned first by the French in late 1940s, during the First Indochina War, because of local insurrections guided by the Khmer Issarak, and then for good in 1972, as Khmer Rouge took over the area. During the Vietnamese invasion in 1979, Khmer Rouge entrenched themselves and held on tightly for months. In earlier 1990s Bokor Hill was still one of the last strongholds of Khmer Rouge.

The old casino. Lots of workers were inside putting it back together again, otherwise we would have been able to go in. We walked around part of the rear of the casino where a guard sat across the street from a nondescript building and where our guide told us the casino owner lived. That's why the guard was there, not for the run down Bokhor ghost town. Unfortunately I have no idea what the other buildings were that we went under an arch to explore.

I loved the "No Sleeping Here At Night" sign. You know, just in case you were tempted to sleep on top of a mountain full of wild jungle animals. Although, now that I type that out, it does sound a bit fun, doesn't it?

The red Cambodian scrawl reads: I love Cambodia. I had to request to stop in the church, and then the brand new casino. This huge monstrosity of a casino and hotel has recently been completed. It's fairly ridiculous, in my opinion, as it was virtually empty (but our guide did assure us that it gets many visitors every night) and especially considering all of Bokhor takes less than an hour to walk around and take in. We almost went onto the very empty casino floor, until the doormen asked us to check our bags and cameras. I felt silly taking the time to hand over everything before walking in just to see, and not gamble, on the floor. Curious, I asked one of the five front deskmen (in the empty lobby) how much it cost to stay the night. $65.00 for a weekday night, $75.00 for a weekend night. Not bad at all, for Western prices, right? But we're in Cambodia, our room tonight is $6.00 for a no frills private room and bathroom. We left the casino shortly after I got reprimanded for taking a picture of the nearly empty lobby.

On our way out the drive, our guides began to worry about their rear bike tire. It was losing air. Not more than 3 km later, one of them began asking workers for directions to where he could find some air for his tire, and then he dropped off the other guide (we're not really sure what his role was on the trip actually, as we found out he was Vietnamese and just recently moved to Cambodia, and couldn't speak a lot of either Cambodian or English) with us and didn't exactly tell us what to do. So we waited. For an hour. Under a tree that a Khmer guard pointed out to help shield us from the bright sun.

We thought the plan was to see the big lady statue (that's all our guide told us about her) and then the waterfall before heading back into town for the sunset river cruise. We saw the big lady statue, and started descending the mountain.

We passed signs to the waterfall, but kept going down the mountain. Then the fog rolled in, and then it started to rain. At first only a sprinkle, and then it poured. We scooted down the mountain slower than we made it up, got to the bottom without seeing the waterfall, and I wondered if it was because of the rain. I figured we were driving back to the agency, until we turned off of the main road and started heading in another direction. We stopped at a small rushing river with hammocks strung up on the surrounding trees, and Khmer vendors walking up to us with trays of food held carefully under umbrellas. Our "guides" walked us to the riverbank and told us a dam was further upstream if we would like to see it. It was still pouring. Andrew and I shook our heads, completely uninterested. "Where's the waterfall?" I asked tentatively, wondering exactly how far we'd have to trek in the downpour to see it. "Here! Here is what we in Cambodia call waterfall!" Our "guide" said pointing at the horizontal rush of water. "Really?" I asked. "Yes! You can see the rapids!" He replied as I looked up at Andrew's "you've got to be $!*%ing kidding me" face. We climbed back on the bike, and rode for 30 minutes or so back to the agency, arriving wet. and cold. and in no mood for a sunset cruise on the river.

When we arrived, we asked if we could cancel, and get a refund for the cruise. The owner said "Of course! I can give you $2.00 back." The cruise cost $5.00. "The entire tour was a disaster…" Andrew tried to reason with her to get the full price back, while I opened up the pamphlet listing off what would be included in the tour. She argued that the weather and motorbike problem wasn't her fault. She's right, obviously the weather wasn't her fault. But, we were supposed to go in a mini-bus, and when we agreed to go on motorbikes, we assumed they would function properly for the day we had them. And, we thought we were going to see a proper waterfall, one that falls from top to bottom. There was a real waterfall in the pamphlet and I told her that we didn't see this. Furthermore, we didn't trek anywhere, and there was no "Black Palace" (as was listed in the pamphlet) in our day either. I pointed to the pictures, and screamed "This is a house of lies!" (ok, maybe I didn't quote Almost Famous, but I certainly got the same message across. She staunchly stood by her terrible customer service (ok, complete lack of) skills that nothing was her fault. She gave us $4.00 instead of the $10.00 we should have received, and even though she tried to get the last word in that nothing was her fault, I did not give her the immature victory she did not deserve. That immature victory was MINE as I shouted "BUT IT IS YOUR FAULT! THAT IS NOT A WATERFALL AND I WILL GET THE LAST WORD!" as we walked out of the agency. 

Bottom line: do not, under any circumstances agree to take a tour with the Kampot – Hatien Travel & Transportation Agency. Even if you do go via mini-bus (or motor-cycle that does not break) it's simply not worth it. You can rent a motorbike on your own for $3.00-$5.00 for the day, spend $1.00-$3.00 on gas and easily find the park without a guide, especially when the guide doesn't tell you anything once you're walking through the Bokhor hill station itself. There are signs. There are other tourists you can ask directions from if you need to. (Furthermore, if you need a bus, they will also over-charge you on this. She quoted us $20.00 for a bus from Kampot to Battambang when our guesthouse only charged us $13.00)

Day 31: “So this is Kampot…”

Kampot is much prettier when it's not raining, you know where you are, where you're going, and you're not lugging your backpack around with you. We hung out on the riverside the whole day. First, in a cafe listening to the debate commentary (and waiting around for CNN to replay the debate- which we later found out only happened on American CNN) and then walking along the river, then receiving a $4.00 massage, and then dinner at a seafood restaurant directly over the river. Kampot's main attraction is… drumroll please… the riverfront. 

The seafood restaurant was… ok. Andrew LOVES seafood, so we inevitably trek to a seafood restaurant when we're on an island or close to the sea. Unfortunately, we have yet to have an amazing meal at one of these aforementioned seafood restaurants close to (in some cases, right on the beach) the sea. Tonight's dinner was a lot of work. The crab was pretty tiny, and I'm pretty sure I ate more shell than I did meat. The 20+ (ok I exaggerate, but seriously there were a lot) waitresses could have cared less about being there, and I wasn't entirely confident walking across the wooden boards that provided the flooring over the river. At $4.00 a plate, I guess you can't complain too much, but we agreed once more that Andrew should probably stick to picking hotels, and I should probably stick to picking restaurants.

Day 30: 20 passengers in an 8 seater to Kampot

We had planned to go to Sihanoukville directly after our stay in Takeo. Four years ago, I missed out on this beach town and I was envious of travelers who I had met who gushed over how calm and pretty it was. I really wanted to go this time around to check it out. We actually spent the whole week debating how we were going to get there. We could take the bus back to Phnom Penh and then take another bus to Sihanoukville: $8.00 each for about a six hour day of transport. OR we could take a shared taxi directly from Takeo to Sihanoukville: $20.00 each for about a three hour day of transport. We went back and forth. Takeo was so cheap for us to stay the week, but $12.00 could pay for a night in an air-conditioned room in Cambodia!

“Why not go to Kampot instead?” Some new travelers to NFO suggested.They agreed with what everyone had said, Sihanoukville is no longer the calm, untouched town it was when I was in Cambodia last. So, we changed our minds and decided to go to Kampot via a shared mini-bus for $5.00. We laughed when we squeezed in among 18 other passengers in the shared mini-bus. Luckily, not all passengers were traveling the full hour to Kampot, and by the time we arrived in town, there were only 8 of us sitting comfortably in the mini-bus.

We were told it would be easy to walk from the drop off point to find different guesthouses in town or along the river. We weren’t told that the mini-bus might drop us off at a diffferent location, farther away from the round-about that was our point of reference. It was steadily raining when we arrived, we had already told the tuk-tuk drivers  (that were asking if we needed a ride through the mini-bus window  before we even came to a complete stop) that “NO! We don’t need a ride!” but after walking for 5 minutes in the rain, we really had no clue where we were going. I knew we weren’t going far, so I hollered after Andrew that I was getting into a tuk-tuk. We climbed in, I thought we were going to one guest-house, Andrew gave directions to another, and then the tuk-tuk driver totally ripped us off . (Btw, Cambodia operates on dollars and riels- so it’s always a bit tricky when you go to pay in a different currency than what was stated, and you almost always get change in both currencies. I know, it’s weird.) $3.00 for a tuk-tuk ride that should have been $1.00!?! And I know, it’s only $2.00, right? But in Cambodia, it’s different, and when I know I’m getting ripped off, these huge red flags go up and I get defensive.

So, we’re standing outside the tuk-tuk, Andrew is trying to get the driver down to $2.00, I’m asking the girl who came out of the guest-house how much it would be for one night, listening to Andrew get ripped off, and the girl says it’s a whole $8.00, I freak out. In my head, all I could think about was how Ernesto told us a room (at the guesthouse I thought we were going to) would be $5.00 and all I could think about was “Great. This woman is watching us get ripped off by the tuk-tuk driver, and thinks she can rip us off too… No. No. No, I’m not staying here for $8.00. I told her we could stay elsewhere for $5.00, but she didn’t budge. I stood under my umbrella indignant as all hell and she came down to $7.00, but no more. And then I made us walk across town, in the rain, to stay at the $5.00 a room guesthouse because I’m too stubborn for my own good. I could barely walk because my flip-flops were soaked and slippery, my Nalgene bottle smacking my legs hanging down from a zipper because my (horrible Osprey) backpack doesn’t have adequate water-bottle pockets, my tri-pod mount fell off my camera that was dangling from my arm – because I couldn’t fit it into my (horrible Osprey) backpack, so I practically fell over trying to pick it up out of a puddle, all while Andrew walked at least 30 steps ahead of me because a. his legs are twice as long as mine and b. he gets over-eager about finding places and doesn’t always remember to wait for my 12” shorter self to keep pace with him.

We got there, and the $5.00 a night room had a broken ceiling fan, so we decided to move to the $6.00 a night room with a working fan. So, in sum, I made us walk across town, in the rain, miserable, to save a whole $0.50 each. I am (not at all) awesome. Worse, we had lunch at the guesthouse restaurant and it was ridiculously over-priced, and not very good, especially compared to the amazing meal we had for dinner elsewhere. I pouted about our lack of solid communication, the tuk-tuk driver ripping us off, and my own stubbornness. We agreed to make sure we are on the same page about where we’re staying in the future, and I took a much needed nap. A short sleep, and a respite from the rain made me feel loads better.  We walked to  Rikitikitavi, a restaurant Matt recommended to us that proved to be amazing (and cheaper than the food at our guesthouse, I might add).

Day 29: One last day at Little Po

We made it back to Little Po for our last day at New Futures. I think both Andrew and I were a little more prepared for our heartstrings to be pulled, and we were prepared with a lesson plan of our own (we taught about different types of jobs), but we weren’t exactly prepared for the sad goodbyes, the hugs followed by “Teacher, Can I kiss you?” or the letters that were stuffed into our hands before we climbed into the tuk-tuk to head back to the volunteer center.

Andrew and I taught a class on our own today. I think the students knew I had brought pictures I had printed out from our Friday visit, so they were very enthusiastic about taking pictures with me and with their friends. (Which was super fun, but now I have to get them printed in our next town and send them back to Jake to take out for me!) The class was great. We began the class by asking what jobs they knew, and the most popular job was a “superstar!” When I asked what a superstar was, they shouted out “Michael Jackson!” They also surprised us by shouting out “undertaker!” I suppose it’s a pretty universal job, but still…

During the lesson, I was sitting down with a group of girls sharing their worksheets. We talked about how Andrew and I lived in Korea, and then about my iphone, and then about how white I am. Too white. (I mean seriously, if you want to be blinded, take a look at my legs above. Can you even believe I’ve been traveling around for a month now, and I’m still that white? It’s mostly because I’m terrified of getting 3rd degree sunburned. again. As I usually do at least once when my skin isn’t used to the sun, let alone the scorching sun in SE Asia!) They gently patted my thigh, completely amazed at the color of my skin. And then they were horrified (and perhaps equally amazed) when I said I was “too white” and I wanted to be like them with their beautiful, rich, darkly tanned skin. Oh how the grass is always greener…

During our coffee break time, I gave the friendly coffee lady a picture that I took of her at her coffee stand. She looked at it at first like I was giving her a random picture, then she realized it was her and her face broke into this huge smile, and then she realized I was giving it to her and it really made her day. She was ecstatic. It was amazing. On our way out, she motioned to her grandchild for me to take a picture of her before we left. I had our students explain it was our last day, but I would send the picture to her in a few days. She smiled and said many kind words to us in Khmer and broken English. It was touching.

We went back to the class, and listened to some more songs, and more thank you’s from the students, and said our goodbyes. Team, the teacher is a complete doll. He thanked us profusely for visiting, and teaching, and said that we were so generous (we were there for four hours) for visiting. It was really a lovely experience to feel so appreciated by not only the students, but also the teacher as well. I had Team write down his address for us, so I’m hoping if I send post-cards to him for his class of 190 students, they can follow along just like Johnson Elementary is following along. They don’t have a computer out at Little Po, but Jake said he might be able to set Team up with an email address soon if he starts going to the volunteer center before or after his English class in the center of Takeo.

“This is REAL Cambodia” Jake hollered over the motorbike engine. And yes, he’s right. It’s dirty. There are cows, pigs, sometimes trees growing in the middle of the dirt road. Tiny stores hold bananas, plastic flip-flops, and bags of chips all tied up in plastic bags hanging from the wooden rafters of the wooden hut. Men and women swing from hammocks in the shade during the hottest hours of the day, while naked children run out to wave and scream “hello.” It’s dirty and it’s beautiful, and I had to remind myself I had a year of beautiful (and probably dirty) experiences to go when I felt a wave of sadness that I was leaving this one experience behind.

Day 28: The Monks’ class

We promised the students of Little Po we would return on Monday. I reminded Andrew to wear his necklace that one of the girls gave him. We put images on a usb to get them printed in town, and then we found out the tuk-tuk was broken. I sighed at the lack of communication/general disorganization, and we made plans to join some other volunteers who were going to teach the monks at a pagoda close to the NFO volunteer center. There were five teachers, and eight students. We took turns teaching (ok, so maaaybe Andrew and I highjacked the adverb lesson) but it was nice, if not a bit excessive – especially considering how I’ve become used to teaching 40 students by myself in Korea while my co-teacher slept, checked her phone, or read a book in the back of the classroom. (I love you, Korea, but your co-teachers got me DOWN!)

After class, we biked to the orphanage, where again there was an overabundance of volunteers. Two new volunteers just arrived and were wandering around looking as lost and confused as I felt on our first day. Andrew assures me that we didn’t look that lost. He asked me what I was going to write about New Futures. And here goes: New Futures is a lovely organisation, but it is a little too lackadaisical for individual short term volunteers. It really needs an army of long term volunteers OR a shorter term army of volunteers with their own leader and specific project to work on while they are here. While New Futures gladly opens its doors to volunteers like Andrew and myself to come in for a week, both NFO and volunteers would benefit more from longer term volunteer stints or (as I have already stated) more. organization. If you’re interested in volunteering here, please do (for longer than a week, unlike our poor planning (or knowledge longer would be better), or with a group ready to rebuild classrooms, or lay down flooring, or cultivate a garden).

If you’re interested in sending toothbrushes, or pens (pencils, sharpeners, erasers or any additional school supplies) the children would benefit greatly. There are nearly 200 students at Little Po, and 50 kids currently living at the orphanage. If you’d like supplies to go to one or the other, specify “New Futures Orphanage” or “Little Po Village School C/o Teacher Teem.”

Supplies can be sent to:

New Futures Organisation
Road 110, Snor Village, Rokakhnong Commune, Daunkeo District
Takeo Town, Takeo Province, Cambodia

Day 27: another lazy afternoon in Takeo

Again, we slept in, we spent the afternoon drinking iced coffee and blogging, and we topped it all off with pizza and cards. (Andrew won.) Today was nothing spectacular (we were told not much goes on at the orphanage on the weekends), but it was nice and relaxing. And as dorky as I am with this blog, I may as well admit that I’m excited to be blogging in real time! As I’m typing this a pig is making terrible noises somewhere not so far away, yet I was cheered up when Andrew suggested “maybe it’s giving birth,” which is a much more optimistic idea than the one I was previously thinking. Anyway, I’m all caught up! Finally! On top of that,  my average spending per day is down to $45.92! Yay! (I guess being in the middle of nowhere will do that to a budget. But I’ll take it. I need to get it as low as possible before we go into more expensive countries and start flying again.)

(By the way, after taking this picture, I realized that my be is totally uneven. The foot of the bed is a solid 2 inches higher than the head of the bed. This may have been why my dreams were more vivid than usual last night…)

Day 26: Biking in the Rain

Some blog posts, reflect some of our days: they are boring. There’s not much to do in Takeo on the weekends, and we relished the downtime. We slept in, we watched movies, we sat at the only cafe in town and sipped iced coffee and worked on our blogs, and then we got caught in a torrential downpour. “Jake said to bike in the middle of the road at night,” Andrew warned me before we set off for the volunteer center after going out to get Cambodian take out for dinner. “Why?” I asked. “He said you never know what’s going to jump out at you when it’s dark. He said he has killed a bunch of snakes.”

Day 25: Little Po Village School

Other volunteers told us how well behaved the students were, how the teacher (Teem) managed the 200+ students in one classroom beautifully, even how they all would say hello in perfect unison. Despite them telling us all of this, we were totally unprepared for it. I mean, how prepared can you be after a 20 minute bumpy tuk-tuk ride on dirt roads, through rice fields, to a tiny village in the middle of the Cambodian countryside where you find yourself in front of 200 village students asking if you have a boyfriend in perfect English?

After the greetings, followed by some Q & A, and a lot of singing, we broke off into different groups. Andrew and I went with Jake and a group of about 50 students. The boys seemed to be on white board duty and carried white boards from their classroom to the area we would have class, while the girls grabbed our hands and asked us what our favorite subject, animal, color, etc. was. Our class mainly consisted of a worksheet revolving around what a “mistake” was. The students breezed through it rather quickly, and by the time they were finished, it was time for a break. It took awhile to get away from the students. They wanted pictures with me... then with Andrew... then with me AND Andrew... then of *only* me and Andrew...

They seemed super entertained we were boyfriend and girlfriend, and even made us give each other kisses. It was all very adorable and entertaining, and made me wish desperately I had my new Polaroid I ordered right before we left Korea. Fortunately, I found out there is a photo printer in town, where I can get pictures developed on the cheap to take back with us on Monday!

Our break consisted of an iced coffee from the sweetest coffee lady in all of Cambodia. She practiced her ABC’s while we sat and sipped our coffee.

Teem joined us and taught us how to play “Stop the bus!” with the students for the next class period. “Stop the bus!” Is a game where students work in groups of 5 and have to think of different words that begin with the assigned letter under our designated categories:

Country, Animals, Food, Body (part), Colors

So, for example: If we wrote “C” on the board (as we did at the beginning) The students will then write down:

Cambodia, Camel, Carrot, etc.

When they are finished, with a word for each category, their group will shout out, “Stop the bus!”

The game is a lot harder than we thought it would be. A color beginning with “C?” All I could think of was cerulean, which the students did not think of. So, often we would jump to a new letter if they were having too hard of a time getting a word for every category. They ate it up though. Loved it. Were captivated by it for the entire class period.

After class, all 200 students assembled back in their desks (shared tables and benches) and thanked us for coming, sang some more, and gave Sarah a big (very heartwarming) goodbye. Sarah has been volunteering mostly at Little Po for the past 6 weeks. She held it together pretty well, I know I would have cried my eyes out if so many students came up to give me cards and even sing a special song! Most of the students ran out as we left to wave goodbye and tell us they’d see us on Monday, which means, whether or not we planned on returning or not, now we have to go. Not that we mind at all, but it’s going to be a little difficult when we have to say we won’t be able to see them the next day.

Sarah decided she wanted to go out to one of the local karaoke (noraebang to me!) joints on her last night. When we arrived, we sat outside at a table for some drinks and snacks waiting for everyone to arrive. Jake asked us if we knew how karaoke rooms worked in Cambodia. We laughed, and I said, “Well, we know how they work in Korea…” At which point Jake filled us in that Karaoke establishments in Cambodia cater to men, and for the most part men only. Girls are sold to the business (by their families) and then work to pay off their rent and perhaps buy their way out of their position at the Karaoke place? It was unsettling. Even more unsettling was when we got a room and two girls went in with us, regardless if we wanted them there or not. In Cambodia, a private karaoke room comes with one or two girls. They are “in charge” of the remote, pouring drinks, and then walking around to cheers! each person (to get patrons to drink more).

Andrew and I were not happy with the two girls working the room (in more ways than one, even though no one was interested in anything they were doing). Not to mention the selection was terrible. No Madonna. No Queen. No Boyz II Men. And they cut Andrew off singing Mr. Big. We’re pretty well versed in karaoke. Korea tends to do that to you after one month, let alone the amount of years we have under our belts there. So when the girls kept stopping songs, then singing their own Cambodian jams, then turning on dance music as if to turn the noraebang into a club without singing… No. No. No.

We were able to squeeze in a super long rendition of Do Re Mi from The Sound of Music, and Uptown Girl, but I can safely say it was the creepiest and most weird noraebang experience I’ve ever had. When we got our bill, they tried to charge us for food we didn’t ask for, nor eat. And despite the girls drinking whatever they wanted and stealing the remote the whole time, they were obviously not required to participate in paying for the experience. Although just to be cheeky, I purposely counted everyone in the room and then looked at the bill and asked them for $2.00 each. They looked at me like I was crazy. I responded with a little pantomime of them holding the remote control, singing, dancing, and most importantly drinking, and asked for $2.00 again. They laughed, although I don’t think they were as happy as my new volunteer friends were with my charades. We biked back to the volunteer center swearing never to return to karaoke in Cambodia again. (Ok, so maybe only Andrew and I were the ones who vowed to never return, but if you’re reading this and find yourself in Cambodia itching to sing into the microphone… maybe it’s best to wait until you’re back in Korea.)

Day 24: New Futures Organisation

A friend of mine from South Korea informed me about New Futures Organisation. As taken from the NFO website:

NFO is a non-governmental organisation based in the town of Takeo, Cambodia. We run an orphanage which cares for local children who would otherwise be left homeless. NFO also operates a chain of rural schools in the villages surrounding Takeo town. These schools offer free education to children in remote villages who are unable to attend regular classes.

The beauty of NFO is that you do not have to pay hundreds of dollars for the opportunity to volunteer, nor do you have to commit to a specific period of time. Although, even after one day, I can see why it’s suggested to volunteer for a longer amount of time. What NFO really needs is an army of long-term volunteers, and more donations… But, I’m hoping we’ll be able to do some good in our 5 day (possibly longer) stay. 

We quickly learned that NFO is a rather laid back organization. Which is really great, but not what we were expecting. We were sort of expecting to show up and be immediately put to work, maybe in a classroom, maybe doing manual labor around the volunteer center, or the orphanage itself… Instead our welcome was more like… “So, what do you want to do here?” when we weren’t exactly sure what there was to do in the first place.

We decided to substitute teach a class for one of the other volunteers who was going to go out to the village school that afternoon instead of teaching at the orphanage. This may have been a better idea if the majority of the kids at the orphanage weren’t fishing that afternoon. We had three students in our “class” who immediately lost interest once others returned from their fishing trip.

Srey Nang did a few letters on her worksheet with me, attempted to practice some full sentences, and then promptly ran off. Andrew’s student was a little more studious than mine. Not knowing if Srey Nang was going to return, I pulled out my camera to take a few pictures. She returned, quickly took a liking to my camera, and began photographing every single worksheet she had completed.

Once she was finished, we played hangman. She would spy a word written on the wall behind me and have me guess letters until I lost. Then she giggled when I pointed out “I said G! I said Y!” as she filled in “angry birds” (copying it from the wall behind me) in the missing blanks.

(Who cares about English when you can open every app on an iphone instead?)

A: What are they listening to?
me: Fareed Zakaria.

After “class,” Andrew played chess (rather, Andrew got his butt kicked playing chess) while I kicked a ball around in the courtyard with one of the newest additions to the orphanage. He and his brother don’t speak any English yet, so kicking a ball around worked for both of us.

Close to 50 kids live at the orphanage, with only about 3 or 4 around the clock supervisors. It’s pretty bare, and could use an army of volunteers to come in and plant a garden (and educate the kids on how to maintain it), or put down a new floor for the dining room area, or clean out the pond, or re-do the various open aired rooms that used to be used for dance/exercise/play rooms. Other volunteers let on that the Khmer in general, don’t have the strongest work ethic, which can be seen not only at the volunteer center, but perhaps at the orphanage as well. There’s a general level of disorganization going on, and so while I feel a little badly I can’t stay longer, at least now I know what I can come back to, or perhaps convince my mom to form an army to come and work on some specific projects in a two week (or hopefully longer) time period. I’m also hoping (praying. crossing my fingers) that I can at least organize some friends and family back home to send some toothbrushes and pens this way.

me: I think my mom could do some damage here…  you know, in a good way…

Andrew: Yea, Give Mrs. G a month and she’ll get some things done.

(We figured out rather quickly, our warm room is less warm with the door open and the lights off.)

Day 23: Cambodia Post thinks outside the box

The rain stopped me from a walk to the post office the day before. I also needed a break from dragon shipping disappointment. Had I known I would LOVE the Cambodia Post so much, I would not have worried so much! We arrived, and after they eyed my box, informed me that it was too large, and they would re-pack its contents into a Cambodia Post box. All items had to be shipped in a Cambodia Post box. I sighed, opened my box, pulled out the dragon and let them see for themselves what I was dealing with. They tried – unsuccessfully – to put it into their regulation Cambodia Post box. And then, magically, they handed it back to me and said to put my dragon back in my box. They would cover my box with Cambodia Post boxes! I could have kissed them. All of them.

They got to work covering my box with another layer of Cambodian cardboard, and asked me where I got the dragon. We explained what happened, and they smiled when I repeatedly thanked them for their help. Shipping cost a little more than what the dragon cost in the first place, it has enough cardboard around it to hopefully survive the slow boat home, and should arrive in about 2-3 months. Yay!

me: Ohmigod, it’s like the weight of a dragon has been lifted off my shoulders!

Andrew: More like the bulk of one…

After the post office, we walked through the Central Market, got bus tickets to Takeo, lunch, and then waited for what felt like forever at the very crowded and busy station for our bus.

A fairly painless two hours later, we arrived in Takeo and were immediately bombarded by tuk-tuk drivers. Per our tuk-tuk rule, we never agree to a ride when someone hounds us. Usually we stroll around until we find one lounging in his ride and we ask him for a lift. Also, we thought it might be possible to walk to the Volunteer Center. Not only did the tuk-tuk drivers get on the bus before we got off, they asked us a couple of times while we got our backpacks, and then drove their tuk-tuks up to us four meters away from the bus to ask again. As Andrew laughed about later, I do admit, I kinda lost it.

me: Why you ask 5 times if we want tuk-tuk?

tuk-tuk driver: I want to know if you need tuk-tuk.

me: ONE time, you ask if I need tuk-tuk. I said NO. TWO times, you ask if I need tuk-tuk. I said NO. THREE times, you ask if I need tuk-tuk. I said NO. FOUR times you ask if I need tuk-tuk. And I SAID NO! NOW FIVE TIMES?!? FIVE TIMES YOU ASK IF I NEED TUK-TUK!?!? NOOO!!! (and maybe, ok, I did, pretend to physically pull my hair out of my head at this point)

The tuk-tuk driver laughs. I turn around to more laughter and it’s another tuk-tuk driver and I point to him and say “YOU TOO! NO TUK TUK!” and he laughs too, and they leave us alone.

And then we got lost walking.

But then the only foreign tuk-tuk driver passes us by, turns around and asks where we’re going. He’s from New Futures (where we were headed), and gives us a ride to what turned out to be a couple of kilometers to the center. Even if Jake hadn’t pulled up, you know I would have stubbornly walked 2 kilometers with the 50 pounds of backpack weight on my back instead of tracking them down for a ride.

Day 22: “Hey Mr. Facebook Man”

Rather than return to the Killing Fields and the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum for a second time, I camped out at a cafe while Andrew went across the street to see what he declared to be “the most horrible thing he could have seen.” I read “First They Killed My Father”during my travels, and I highly recommend it, however, it’s simply not one of those books you need to read again, like seeing The Killing Fields, where a large number of Cambodians were killed or the former high-school that was used as Security Prison 21 (S 21) during the Khmer Rouge reign. Tuk-tuk drivers asked over and over again, “You want to see Killing Fields?” and over and over again, I would respond “No! No, I don’t want to see that at all!” 

Instead, I hung out at the Boddhi Tree UMMA Cafe. The food wasn’t so great, but the lime-aid drinks, and relaxed atmosphere were superb. Before Andrew went over to S 21, our computers were overtaken by a brother and sister bored with their vending duties. It is not uncommon to see children hawking goods more than adults in Cambodia. It’s not the most pleasant experience, and the practice frustrates me. Even if I want to help the child out, I don’t want to condone the practice by buying anything. It’s always awkward, the feelings that rise up when an adorable 8-13 year old comes up to you. Generally, I will have a short conversation with the poor child slugging around a boxful of illegally copied books, or an armful of bracelets, but I inevitably apologize and tell him or her that I will not be buying anything. They are (usually) better natured and less aggressive than adult vendors who simply don’t. give. up.

(Homegirl amused herself and edited this on my phone before I told her I had to get back to work)

On this particular day, Kon immediately spotted the Facebook tab (not even an open window) on Andrew’s computer, and quickly weaseled his way not only onto Andrew’s computer, but into his Facebook account, and sent himself a friend request. Then he got to work editing a photo of me. Meanwhile, Kon’s little sister came around to my side of the table, asked for an earbud and listened as I edited a video from Vietnam. When we finally shooed them away they camped out at another table playing with an Englishman’s smartphone until his wife and friends met up with him and then bought loads of trinkets from them.

(Kon’s photo editing skills for your viewing pleasure)

That evening, Andrew’s phone buzzed and Kon “accepted” Andrew’s “friend request.” This made us wonder exactly where he was getting online? Does his family have a computer at home, yet they still send him and his sister out after school to sell trinkets to tourists?

p.s. Neither of us were very pleased with how expensive Phnom Penh is. Compared to prices four years ago, it’s astronomical now! $15.63 didn’t get us breakfast, and we split every meal we had simply because after paying $2.00 for meals in Vietnam we had such a hard time spending so much more in the neighboring, less developed country!