Major Wattage

Happily I am not the only teacher at my school that is still writing blogs from a vacation he had over a month ago. The sad part is that while the others have around 5 weeks of material to slog through, my SE Asian tour lasted a mere 10 days before I had to return home for most of the Spring Festival. Well, here's the second to last of it...

Siem Reap, the Kissimmee, FL of Cambodia, was unlike anyplace I had ever been. Maybe Atlantic City is similar. It bordered on surreality as the love-child of the 1st and 3rd worlds. The day after are arrival we got up bright and early to hit the Ancient City of Angkor. Of course since Angkor is the only reason anyone comes to Siem Reap (or Cambodia) all non-Cambodians within city limits were going there too. After getting our tickets (and making it expressively clear to our Tuk-Tuk driver that we were hiring him for one-way, not the entire day), we were off to see the Mother of all Wats, Angkor. Without any sort of reference or guide, the temple was overwhelming. Bas-reliefs on every wall told some tale related to Buddhism or Hinduism (it had been a center for both religions). It became necessary to backtrack, mooching here and there off tour guides I hadn't paid for. Never before had I been so thankful for knowing German.

This strategy caused me to frequently peel off from my traveling companions, which I think annoyed them. But it was either that or missing out on an explanation of "The Churning of the Sea of Milk" or the Indian epic Ramayana (mah favorite). Most of the stonework was concentrated on the outer corridors of the Wat. As you moved inward you went higher, until you reached the upper courtyard with some nice stupas which were regretfully closed that day.

Outside the Wat I bit the bullet and bought a great $5 book about the whole site and then met up again with Ken and Dan, for a slushee (national drink of Cambodia and Thailand). We took another Tuk Tuk up a long ancient boulevard infested by greedy monkeys and arrived at our next stop--Bayon, another massive, but far less restored, temple. In fact as Ken pointed out, it seemed like if the rebuilders couldn't figure out where a brick went, they just threw it into one of several massive piles on the perimeter.

But the dilapidation and hazards made it feel more rustic and authentic, and so as I walked through the maze-like interior, hopping over each crevasse and pitfall, I couldn't help but hum the theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark. Like Angkor Wat there were some nice statues and bas-reliefs...and a phallic Hindu linga just sitting in one corner.

After that we made our way up to another ancient complex called Angkor Thom. To write about the rest would be repetitive, even though it was all still cool. About an hour was spent conversing with the child-hawkers. We tried talking to them about their country and they tried to sell us T-shirts.

I later doubled back alone to Angkor Wat to look at things I had missed sans guide, the plan being to meet on a hilltop and catch the sunset illuminating the Wat. I tarried too long and had to rush back, hoping on the back of one of the motorcycle-taxis, and then racing up the slope. Apparently everyone else had the same idea we did--the temple on top was packed with people and I had to navigate steep narrow steps that had become bleachers for the onlookers. The sunset was just so-so, but in the dusk light and mist the surrounding plains became incredibly exotic.

And that was my day. Leb Wohl.

Race to Cambodia, part II

In Chantaburi I decided to quickly have some passport photos made, which would speed things up when we made it to the border.

I made it back to the bus just in time, though the only space left was in the back next to two monks. Of course this excited me a great deal. On the way to Aranyaprathet I attempted to talk with them with little success, though what I could understand was interesting. Both of them were returning from a democratic rally in support of Thaksin, a former prime minister who had recently been deposed. The Thaksin situation is a divisive issue in Thailand, and he may not have been that great a leader, but after being in China encountering real free speech and activism is always refreshing, especially coming from monks.

We made it to Aranyaprathet at about 6:45 pm--cutting it very close--and were shuffled into a city bus that would take us to the border town. About 7:15 now. We got the border town quicker than we expected, but still had to take a Tuk-Tuk to the crossing.

We knew this would be the most perilous stage of our journey, since the driver would no doubt try and take us to the "Cambodian embassy" to for "visas" instead of the border post, which is where we were supposed to go. Though we made it absolutely clear where we wanted him to take us, it was to no avail and once he turned off the main road I felt something was wrong. He pointed us to a small building saying "visa," after which Ken immediately protested with Dan and I soon following suit. Several people came out of the building, motioning for us to come inside. Thanks to our belligerence we soon won out, and the driver just smiled and turned around.

7:30 now. The border area was a dirty, disorganized no-man's land, beset with con men and peddlers. After exiting Thailand, we walked along a boulevard straddled by ugly casinos and other establishments that only became legal when it was impossible to determine whose laws they had to follow. We stopped at the guard post so I could get my visa, which was not difficult, though I had to pay several dollars more than Ken and Dave did. Traveling to the immigration point were several hundred Cambodian migrant workers returning from their days work on the Thai side. They had a special gate to go through, while we were guided towards the foreigners entrance. I was through immigration at 7:45.

Outside immigration it was a complete dystopian circus. There were no buses and policemen, peddlers and children were wandering around offering their transportation services and goods. One cop took my suitcase as if to guide me to a car, but at Ken's thoughtful urging I wrestled it back. The taxis may have looked like gypsy cabs, but the government still got a large share of the fares and the police were in cahoots with the drivers and eager to make their cut. We found a driver to take us to Siem Reap and got out of the cesspool quickly.

On our 2-hour $35 cab ride we finally could sit back and relax. Assuming we had not just been abducted by the Cambodian mob, we had made it through the worst. I took a moment to admire the nothingness that I saw along the highway. Though it was night, you could feel how completely rural the country was. Two days later I would travel the same road in daylight and confirm this. While Thailand had a lively tropical, almost-Caribbean vibe, Cambodia was the exact opposite--it had not been invited to the perpetual S.E. Asian party. It looked felt like a Third-world country, but of course that probably had something to do with the Khmer Rouge.

We were soon in Siem Reap, which reminded me of Gatlinburg or a poor-man's Disney with its complete inauthenticity. It was basically just a tourist town that served Angkor. We went to the closest hotel that looked cheap. We had crossed the finish line at around 10 pm and our 12-hour journey was over. It would be hard for Angkor Wat to top that.

Leb Wohl.