A Travel Journal

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My calves are very sore from climbing up the temples. They are very steep as you need to earn your way up to heaven, and my feet are swollen from the heat. I have been getting massages but they are more relaxing than therapeutic.

There is a lot of poverty and begging here, it is impossible to give to all of them and when you do give, anyone who sees you will hope for the same and on and on. Thirty times a day, young girls try to sell me postcards, scarves or souvenirs. Some of them speak very good English and they can get quite cheeky but it is hard not to like them. I try to change the subject to give them an opportunity to practice their English. A lot of the children I have met are incredibly talented with languages.

I met a French writer and producer who volunteers as an English teacher in Laos and Cambodia. He teaches in remote villages, admirable.

I also went to a cello concert given by a Swiss doctor who founded three hospitals in Cambodia to provide free health care for the children. 89% of the children are treated in these hospitals and the mortality rate is 2.1%. They have very sophisticated equipment in order to have accurate diagnosis (tuberculosis, dengue fever, hepatitis). All that is very expensive, costs 50 million Dollars a year to keep them running. He believes these children deserve the same treatment as the Swiss. UNICEF disagrees. So he has to ask for individual donations. Being a musical clown, he attracts people to his center by offering free concerts. Another admirable man.

Today I went to a school of arts where they teach orphans and very poor children to dance and play music so that they will have a job. I think it is financed by a French-Italian organization.

Blind men are also taught to massage or play music.

There is so much to do to rebuild this country after thirty years of war.

I saw an amputee who chose to sell books and postcards instead of begging, or a young boy who asked me for powdered milk for his little sister. I could not resist.

It's hard to be powerless here, I do the best I can but it will never be enough.

Coming here to see Angkor is worth the trip. Meeting the people is an eye opener. These people work very hard to rebuild their country, I am amazed. I think Buddhism helps them to forgive.

Cambodia part deux

My last trip to Asia was in Burma and I never slept more than two days in the same bed. Staying here for a whole week gave me a chance to settle down, go back to the same places to eat, or buy water. The people recognized me; it's nice to see a familiar face when so many tourists zip through for only a couple of days. I went back to a massage parlor where I had gotten a foot massage, and the girl who gave it to me recognized me. She was disappointed that it wasn't her turn. When I came out to say goodbye to her, she ran up to me and gave me a screaming big hug. For some reason, the massage girls like me here and are very affectionate with me. Although I never told them I was also a massage therapist, I feel a very strong bond with them. It is safe to go there during the day; I won't go into what happens there at night...

Today at one of the temples I saw a young girl sketching, she looked like she was eight years old. I was amazed at her concentration and the way she was holding her pencil and sketchbook gave an indication that she had been doing it a long time, she was so at ease in the positioning of her tiny feet on the rock in front of her. I was dying to speak with her, but she did not seem to speak English. Finally I asked her how old she was. She seemed to be prepared for the question and as a child who learned something by heart, she answered: "My name is Nom and I am twenty four". I was embarrassingly shocked, but she assured me that it was her age and laughed. She seems to cope with it pretty well, and at least I finally understood her grown up demeanor. I am relieved that she was so graceful about it.

Yesterday I took a sixty kilometers ride to a remote temple outside Siem Reap. By motorbike it took one and a half hours on a paved road and another one and a quarter hours on a dusty bumpy dirt road. We passed along a lot of rural living, and the kids were excited to see a foreigner. They all waved at me and said "bye, bye" and any response on my part provoked hysterical laughs. I witnessed some daily life scenes. Looking for lice in the hair, a young boy throwing a fishing net in a puddle of water, avoiding the chickens and dogs on the road, anniversary funerals, festivals, coq fights...

The Beng Malea temple has been completely invaded by the jungle and apart from some wooden passageways built among the ruins, I don't think any renovations were done. As usual, a few guides were there trying to make a few dollars, and as usual, I felt like saying "leave me alone, I don't want a guide, I will explore on my own, thank you very much". A young man following me felt my reluctance so he passed me and pretended he was visiting the temple as well. I quickly encountered a dead end and thought "I came this far to walk through a temple in 5 minutes!" The young man was comfortably sitting, enjoying the birds the ruins and the forest. He pointed to a pile of rocks and said: "Tower". Then he showed me some legs engraved in a rock and said "Apsara" (a heavenly nymph) and then he pointed to the top of her body on another rock and I thought, "this is not getting anywhere". Finally he showed me a window and said "this way". There was no way I was going to climb up there!

But then he produced a ladder and I had to take off my backpack and camera bag in order to fit through the opening. Between the humid heat, my swollen feet and my sore calves and thighs, I did not feel comfortable climbing through those ruins. I was going to need his assistance and he knew it. He held out his hand and guided me through the rest of the temple. In comparison to all the beggars in Siem Reap, his presence was very soothing. He was very quiet, did not speak English and I relied on him. I found myself drawn to his centeredness like a magnet. What a difference from the desperate solicitations I had been subjected to for the last week. I caught myself thinking it was a good thing he was not my driver because it would have been a torture (perhaps sweet though) to hold back the drive to wrap my arms around him. Public affection is not done here and even when a husband and wife are on a motorbike, she does not hold on to him. Motorbikes and bicycles are the main mode of transportation here and I have seen very young kids on the back of a bicycle without a child seat or harness. I have seen four teenagers fit on a two seater and also a family a five. Anyway, to get back to my guide, I would have gladly spent a whole day with him, even without talking, just his soothing presence felt so good, but think it was because of all the stress of constant solicitation.

Today when I came out of one of the temples, Vibol my driver who was usually always waiting for me was nowhere to be found. Many drivers offered to take over, the girls asked me to relax and have a drink at their shop, there were plenty of services offered. They even tried to call out for my driver when they realized I was not going to give up on him. I finally realized I was at the wrong gate. He had dropped me off at the North gate and I asked him to meet me at the East gate but I was waiting for him at the West Gate. At the same time Vibol got worried about me and started driving around looking for me, but we finally hooked up again. I must say he was a reliable, honest, hard working father of four and his driving was smooth. I felt very safe with him and never needed to hold on to him.

I also took a little excursion to the floating village. As the water levels go up(monsoon season) and down (dry season),these people move their floating homes with the water availability. The floating homes include mechanics, ice makers, police stations, churches, schools, hairdressers... Cambodians and Vietnamese cohabitate in this village. You can recognize the Vietnamese by their distinctive conical hats. Needless to say, it is obvious these people have a hard life. When I see the fishermen in the water, I would not trade my life with theirs.

My culinary experience here has been wonderful. I found some Vietnamese, Khmer, and French restaurants and the food was always excellent. My guesthouse is conveniently located near the old market and there are many restaurants and massage parlors around. Also internet is widely available. Siem Reap can certainly cater to your needs.

Tomorrow I am taking a boat to Battambang.

Kampuchea Suite No. 3

For the record, Cambodia in Khmer is called Kampuchea.

I read in the lonely planet that the boat trip from Siem Reap to Battambang is the most spectacular in the country. It started off being pretty miserable. Because of the low water level we had to take a small motor boat which has two benches (with no back support) to seat six people. There were five tourists and we picked up a couple of Cambodians on the way. I also read in the book that the boats should drive slowly in order to avoid big waves that disrupt the local life. Our driver was very young and liked speed. We were going so fast that the front of the boat was lifted out of the water and the water was splashing on me for the good hour it took to cross the lake. I was cold and wet and pretty soon my bladder was unbearably sore. There was no way I was going to enjoy the five hour ride in this condition. When we got to the end of the lake to enter the river, the driver needed to ask for directions and we started to worry. As we passed several floating villages I finally found the nerve to tell him I needed to go to the toilet. He finally granted my request and took the opportunity to have breakfast while all the girl had a chance to relieve themselves. I bought some delicious jackfruit chips and retrieved two T-shirts and my pashmina shawl out of my suitcase. We were riding so fast that even with all my layers, I needed to shield myself from the wind with a life vest. But I was a lot happier and started to enjoy the ride; though I am not sure the locals enjoyed the waves we made. There were times when he slowed down, though, when we were going through heavily populated floating villages. Again the children were excited to wave at us and we passed many fishing nets. A huge double triangular bamboo structure weighed down by tires and logs, the fisherman would pull on a rope using a pulley to heave the net up and down. As the net was manually pulled, it was pretty impressive to see it slowly and gracefully be lifted from the water.

Just about five hours into the journey we ran out of gas. The driver was trying to empty the few drops left in the three bins he had, but it was not going to work. He was pointing to something in front of us but we did not understand Cambodian. Suddenly and all that with a big smile, he stripped his clothes, jumped into the water and started pulling the boat. At one point we could not see him anywhere and we were wondering if we were drifting with the current. One of the girls pulled on the cord and there was nothing at the end. She finally leaned over the front of the boat and found him under the boat, his mouth barely out of the water, smiling from ear to ear. We finally made it to the dock which was about three hundred metres away from when we ran out of gas. The welcome committee was overwhelming; about twenty men with hotel placards were trying to convince us to come with them. A young man with glasses grabbed my suitcase and helped me up the hill. I guess I was going to his hotel and he ended up being my guide as well.

Pou was thirty and his English was quite fluent, I was to spend the next two days with him and I learned a lot about Cambodia.

The people who lost a leg during the war have a lifetime pension. Some of them will sell their handicapped card for some dollars, waste all their money on alcohol and whatever, run out of money and finally resort to begging. In the meantime, the person who bought the card is getting a lifetime pension and is probably not handicapped.

There are three types of roads in Cambodia, bumpy, dusty and slippery.

There are three seasons, hot, very hot and wet.

Pou's mother would rather sleep on the floor when it is hot, even though he bought her a bed, because it keeps her cool.

I saw many market sellers with cell phones, Pou has had one for ten years already, longer than me!

A motorcycle costs about US$1000. A Toyota Camry (the most common car I saw over there) costs US$3000-6000. Motorcycles fill up with gas at little booths conveniently located all over town. To measure a liter, they fill up Coke and Sprite and Fanta bottles.

Pol Pot, the monster responsible for the thirty year war in Cambodia had many educated people killed, many teachers perished under his regime.

The foreign languages taught during that time were Russian and Vietnamese.

Pol Pot died in April 1998.

When a girl is heart broken, she may decide to go to a monastery for a couple of years to practice introspection.

The prices for tourists in Battambang are the same as for locals so the food was really cheap and quite good.

A large clean room with private bath, cold water, fan and TV was US$5. Taking cold showers in Cambodia was not a problem for me because it was so hot, and the water was not that cold.

On my way back to Siem Reap, I was relieved to board a larger boat. Two tourists were taken off our boat to take the small boat I had come on." Poor things", I thought. What I did not realize was that this boat was going to be a lot slower. We got stuck in the mud a few times. At one point someone jumped in the water and he was in it ankle deep! No wonder we were all stuck! I guess the small boat got through that one effortlessly. We changed boats half way, about five hours into the journey. It took another five hours to get to our final destination. But this time I did not get wet and I made sure not to drink before the trip. In a way it was a good thing I traveled on two different boats since the experiences were so different. Again it was quite cold on the boat and when we arrived in Siem Reap, I did not even use the fan in my room to sleep, the temperature had dramatically dropped. And of course my feet were not swollen anymore.

Towards the end, I chatted with an Australian girl who had just finished taking a four week course on a Thai Island to be certified to teach English all over the world. She had been living in Shanghai teaching English in private schools and apparently the pay was pretty good. She loved living there and she had friends from all over the world.

I was not able to take any portraits on this trip although I find the Cambodians to be very beautiful people. With their black almond eyes, dark skin, full lips and genuine smile, I was constantly mesmerized by their beauty which brought an eternal smile on my face. In return, they liked my light skin and the mutual admiration was contagious. I was beaming the whole time I was there. But I did not feel comfortable taking pictures of them as most of the people who approached me wanted money from me and paying them would kill the spontaneity of my shots. And if I did not pay them, I would have felt like I was stealing from them. Actually, the only person who did not ask me for money was the young girl sketching, and shooting her did not feel right either.