It has been a strange and uncertain few months. It feels like my life has been in a state of constant flux. After my contract with IDP ended I decided to stay on in Cambodia and look for some more international work. So for the first time since I was 13, I found myself unemployed. At first it was kind of fun and liberating, but then it got boring and tedious as I spent days searching for jobs, writing applications and waiting, waiting, waiting for people to get back to me. Dull. So I to pack up my bag and hit the road for a while.
My first trip was to India. I had been wanting to visit India for a long time. I had very strong and exotic images of what I thought India would be like in my mind - inspired by the works of great Indian authors such as Salman Rushdie and Arundhati Roy. I imagined great crumbling cities filled with colour, aromas and bustle. And in many ways I was not disappointed – this India certainly existed, but there is so much more. It was so diverse and there was stunning natural beauty I was just not prepared for…
My trip started in Dehli where I met Emma, a good friend of mine from Sydney. We use to work together at the City of Sydney, but now Emma works full time as a Massage Therapist. She has her own business back home, but had been working in India massaging for 20-20 cricket teams.
I arrived late at night in the crumbling Dehli airport terminal with no plan or guide book (I had recently decided that I don’t like guide books any more – it is much more fun/interesting to talk to people and find your own way around AND you don’t get caught up in the whole paranoia that you might be getting ripped off because the guidebook says so – give yourself over to the experience I say – getting ripped off occasionally is part of that) and only a vague sense of how I was going to meet up with Emma. Thankfully India has telephones (that was a safe bet because I have spoken to numerous telemarketers on the subcontinent). So I called her and after a little confusion (mostly from me) I found myself in a van with an Aussie family heading to a swish hotel near the airport where I would rendezvous with Emma and her friend. After a quick hello and my first Indian lime soda (soon to be a staple) we jumped back into the van and headed to a beautiful old Maharaja fort cum hotel overlooking a small town outside of Dehli. Not bad for my first night in India…
Initially, I planned to stay in India for 3 weeks and return to Cambodia to hear about jobs, but while I was traveling it became apparent there was no need to rush back, and so I ended up extending my trip 6 weeks in India.
For the first 3 weeks I traveled with Emma. Our first stop was in Jaipur with it’s pink city and grand fort perched atop a big hill – across Agra to see the perhaps greatest tribute to love and in of the most iconic buildings in the world: the Taj Mahal (And it was an arranged marriage. Go figure.) – back to Dehli for a flight – up over the stunning Himalayas to the sublimely beautiful town of Leh and the surrounding Ladakh area in the far north – back down (past the disputed territory) to Kashmir Jammu which was unremarkable except for the wild hemp plants growing along the side of the road – across to Dharamshala/McLeod Ganj where the Dali Lama lives and hippies thrive in the green green foot hills of the Himalayas – down to Shimla woodlands a former British summer outpost – down the to modern grid-planned city of Chandigah to meet some friends of Emma and back to Dehli.
It was a lot of fun travelling with Emma. I often travel alone, so it was really nice to share the experience with someone. A lot of funny things happened to us. All the Indians assumed we were married and we played on this a lot. On one train ride we told these two young university students that we were in an open relationship. They were in awe - it was funny. Another time we pretended we were on the verge of getting divorced ‘this was a make or break trip and, to be quite frank, it broke’.
Emma had been telling me that she had some problems, as a young woman, with guys (both Indian and foreigners) in India and it was quite strange travelling with her – despite the fact she was dressed conservatively and was clearly travelling with me nearly all the guys would stare at her. Outside of the big cities or tourist areas, young women don’t get out much, they are still kept at home and marriages are still arranged. The women’s movement still has a long way to go in India, there is still a lot of discrimination against women, which I found a bit incongruous given how open minded people were towards religion. It was not uncommon to see people walking around with the Hindu dot on the forehead, the red string of the Buddhists slung around their wrist and a Christian cross dangling around their neck. I guess they were just covering all their bases.
I remember when I was at primary school, it was a big joke that in India people eat with right hand and go to the toilet with the left – so you never touch anyone with your left hand. Even so, it came to me as quite a surprise that this is still largely the case for ordinary Indians. I can’t say I got very good with either. Although I must say - eating with your fingers is fun, except when you are trying to eat rice with curry. Those juicy little buggers are had to scoop up! Having said that – the food in India was fantastic (better than Indian Home Dinner in Newtown!); curries, breads, pickles, fruits, sticky sweets…yuuuuuuummm…I don’t think I had a bad meal, nor did I get sick (I reckon I have had every bug imaginable in Cambodia – my immune system is so strong now). Which is probably a lucky thing because, due to the lack of toilet paper, I would have had to use my left hand to clean it up…
Anyhow, so Emma left after three weeks to return to Australia and I kicked on for a few more weeks solo. From Dehli I flew to Mumbai (aka Bombay) and the meandered down the west coast through Goa, Mangalore and Kerela.
Each state of India was so distinct and diverse. This really surprised me. Although most Indians speak Hindi and many speak English, most also speak a local dialect and maintain local customs. In the far north the people are much more Asiatic in appearance (sharing more in common with their Nepalese neighbours than the mainland of India), they eat lots of stews and noodle dishes (including a new favourite momos; similar to a Chinese dumpling, but maid with a more bread like outside), the landscape is mountainous, every little town has a beautiful old monastery perched above it and the religion is mostly Buddhist. While in the far south of Kerala, the men wear dhotis (like a sarong) instead of pants, the local breakfast is dosa (pancake stuffed with vegetable and meat), there is a lot more seafood, the people are much darker (distinctly Indian) and the landscape is tropical – large fresh water lakes wind around islands and peninsulas clumped with coconut trees. Strangely, despite their differences both of these areas (the far north and the far south) were my favorites in India.
But I had some good times in other places – in Mumbai I went to a 20-20 match where I was the only white guy in the crowd (Sachin Tendalker’s Mumbai team thrashed Warnie’s Rajistan team) and went through the slums which was interesting - much more vibrant and colourful than I thought it would be. Did a little yoga retreat on the beach in Goa and met some locals who took me to eat the best fish I ever ate in my life…
After six weeks though, I was bit over traveling, especially on my own. Although I met some lovely fellow travellers and locals, I also bumped into my fair share of hippies and morons. It’s funny that places like India (and Cambodia) seem to attract really diverse personality types. Personally, I could not imagine how one could be ‘traveling’ for ten years or why you would go all the way to India to learn about Buddhism without every having read about it…but that is what some people do.
So by the time I got back to Phnom Penh I was ready to follow up my job applications and to, hopefully, finalise something. Sadly, I was to be disappointed. Although I had a few prospects, none of them were moving particularly quickly, meanwhile my visa was running out and I was starting to run short of money. I had decided while I was in India that if nothing came up in within two weeks after me returning to Cambodia then I was going to go to Thailand and Laos before flying home (arriving home broke). The prodigal son returns. So, half packing my bags ready to go, I searched and waited for two weeks. And nothing. So I packed my bags, organised my visa’s, organised a bus ticket and then the phone rang…I had an interview for a job in Phnom Penh I hadn’t rated myself on getting – mostly because they advertised extensively on popular international development websites (and would have gotten hundreds of applications by my estimation).
I went to the interview and it went well. But I still had my doubts and continued with my departure plan (all the while sleeping on the floor at my friends houses). Three days before I intended to leave, I got a call back – they wanted me to come back for a second interview the next day. The second interview also went well and was considerably less formal than the first. I was starting to suspect they liked me. So I left that interview thinking that I still had to leave because my visa was due to expire. Later that day they called me back and asked me to come and meet the local staff. So, the day before I was due to leave I went in and met the staff. After which I started to feel more confident. They then told me that I should go to Laos, sort out your visa and come back ‘you can be pretty confident at this stage’. And so it was that I went to Laos (via Battambong and Bangkok) feeling confident that I would have a great new job when I got back. A job which I am happy to say, I will be starting tomorrow!
The new job is with an International NGO called Pact. I will be working as the (inhale deep breath) ‘Strengthening Governance and Accountability – Monitoring, Evaluating, Reporting and Learning Coordinator’ (why do I always get jobs with really, really long titles?!). What that means in layman terms is that I will be measuring the impact of to projects across Cambodia. The first being a project aimed at improving the effectiveness and accountability of local government and the second aimed at reducing corruption (there is a lot of room to move with this in Cambodia – it is consistently rated internationally as a poor performer in this area). I have a strong interest in both and am looking forward to working with Pact on these issues. And I am getting paid to do it! Another great thing is that it ties in directly with my Masters. So, I am happy and relieved at the moment. I was really worried about going back to a boring desk job in Australia.
And so it was that I also went to Thailand and Laos. After months of travelling on a budget, it was nice to let go a little bit. In Bangkok I went a little wild at the markets and bought heaps of new clothes. I also went to the cinema for the first time in at least a year and a half. Something I have really missed here. The cinema was great! But the movie itself was lame – saw ‘the happening’ with Mark Walberg. I am sorry but Marky Mark can not pull off being a science teacher.
After Bangkok I flew up to Luang Prabang in the north of Laos. In many ways Laos is similar to Cambodia, but at the same time there is definitely a stronger Thai and Vietnamese influence. It surprised me how developed and clean it seemed compared to Cambodia. I was under the impression that Laos was the poor cousin in SE Asia. But (the tourist areas at least) are much better maintained than in Cambodia. I guess the corruption in Cambodia really stops things from happening. Someone really should do something about that…
Luang Prabang is a picturesque town set in lush green hills. The fat brown waters of the Mekong sweep around a little town made up of neat wooden houses, restaurants, pagodas. I was there in the ‘off season’ but there were still plenty of tourists around. A lot of people go to Laos for the ‘adventure’ holiday. There are vast tracks of unspoiled forest (the Laos government is the only one in SE Asia to preserve their natural heritage before most of it was felled) containing lots of waterfalls and rivers where your adventure tourist can go swimming, caving, kayaking, abseiling, hiking…whatever turns them on really and there is a massive tourists industry taking advantage of this. I spent a few days in Luang Prabang taking boat rides, swimming and checking out some beautiful waterfalls before heading south to Vang Vieng (keeping on a well worn tourist track).
Vang Vieng is another town set in beautiful location. The Nam Song river cuts quickly through the town and a number of makeshift bamboo bridges perch over the river – offering easy access. Around the town there are several big caves hollowed out of the vast stark grey/green limestone cliff faces. But in the town itself, it is a bit like a big frat party. Along the main road backpackers hang about in small bars watching endless reruns of Friends and Hollywood movies…it’s a surreal place. It is like someone took a bit of Bangkok and whacked into the middle of this sleepy little town.
After Vang Vieng I headed down to the capital ‘city’ of Laos – Vientiane. Perched on the banks on the Mekong Vientiane would have to be the smallest and most relaxed city I have ever been to. The population is only about 300,000 – making it about a tenth the size of Phnom Penh which ain’t saying much…
The food in Laos was surprisingly good as well. They love to BBQ - especially fish and chicken. They have a great snack made from river weed (like sea weed) covered in sesame seed and deep fried. And the national dish Laab (minced meat and herbs served on rice) is also very tasty.
So I am back in Phnom Penh and have spent the week settling back in – looking for a new house, buying some clothes for work, etc, etc…looks like I will be here for another year at least.
So I haven’t updated this in a while. Partly because I have been busy, partly because I have been lazy and partly because I just didn’t have much to say.
I have just finished a 3 month contract with IDP where I organised a massive conference for teachers of English in Cambodia. Held over two days, we had over 1000 participants and 170 sessions. So it was a pretty big deal. As my boss kept saying – it is a major logistical challenge in a resource poor country like Cambodia. To start with there are only two possible venues that could host such a big event and those two venues aren’t exactly the Taj Mahal, or even the outhouse of the Taj Mahal. There is no air-conditioning, a lack of toilets and no good seating. Plastic chairs, oh yeah.
Anyhow that is all over now, and I am looking for some more work. I have until the end of April until my visa runs out and if I don’t have a clear plan by then I plan on leaving Cambodia. Am thinking I might do some travelling before heading back to Sydney…I think India could be calling…
So, life in Phnom Penh is very different to the rest of Cambodia. It took me a long time to adjust and even now I still struggle with it, especially with the arrogance (of both Khmers and Expats). There is a clear pecking order and lots of small minded people happy to put others in their place. But it is not all bad – I have met some intelligent, creative and motivated people. And there are plenty of great eating places and bars.
It is possible to live here a better life than one could live at home on very little money. The international presence and influence here is dominating. In a lot of ways Phnom Penh is like living in bubble, it seems so removed from the rest of Cambodia. There is so much money floating around. There are thousands of 4WD Lexus’s driving about clogging up roads that were built for motorbikes.
In the provinces the poverty and hardship is apparent. In the city the inequality and corruption are most apparent.
Police regularly try to pull me over while I am driving about town on my moto. Not because I have done anything wrong, but just because they are looking to get a little cash from a ‘fine’. Friends of mine have been fined for driving with their lights on during the day. I still get flushed with guilt when I speed up to go past them, half expecting jump on their moto and chase me through traffic. But they don’t. That would require effort. It is quite funny a site seeing a whole row of motos dodging the cops trying to pull people over and speed off.
The traffic here is crazy. But somehow it seems to work. People just ride like there are no rules and if you don’t do the same, you get nowhere fast. I have had a few close calls and seen a few bad accidents. At night they turn the traffic lights out to save power which means everyone forces their way through intersections
The other day I saw a moto with three drunk guys, not wearing helmets, slam into the side of a van. Two were out for the count as the van sped off and crowd descended. Some guys went through their wallets and took out some cash. I thought they were stealing it, but then someone said they were taking the cash to pay for the ambulance when it arrived. Which did turn up, about an hour later.
On another day I was on my way to work and the traffic was heavier than usual. I saw a traffic cop and assumed that he was intently making the traffic go slower for no good reason or just looking for easy money. But then I saw the dead body sprawled at his feet, blood oozing from the head onto the dusty road. Road accidents are a growing market, as the streets improve and people have better cars and motos, they drive faster and take more risks.
The last few weeks I have been going to a lot of farewells. Phnom Penh is also a very transient city, especially for international workers. But of late, it has been all the guys that I came here leaving. It was sad to see them all go; I had grown quite close to many of them. But such is life. We are all off to new adventures and chapters in our lives. And there are a few hangers, so I don’t have to make a completely new set of friends.
A few weeks ago I also did my first modelling gig. A friend asked me to help out with a ‘child safe’ program which was aimed at raising awareness of child trafficking and child sex tourism. I played the role of the sexpat. They hard time finding a guy who would play the role – apparently everyone else was worried about their reputation. I am like – I don’t care. I’m not a sexpat. Anyhow, turns out I am natural – what’s my inspiration!!! They took pictures of me going into a picking up a young Khmer girl, taking her to hotel and then getting arrested and put in jail. It was kind of fun. Although it is going to be a real pain getting a tuk tuk in this town after the flyers are distributed.
I have also kept in contact with my friends in Kampong Thom. A few weeks ago my drinking buddy Mab got married and I went back for the wedding. It was a three day affair and I got to go to all the little ceremonies – the pre party, hair cutting ceremony, the outfit changing, the blessing, the main party and, of course, the after party. There was a lot of sitting around drink and talking, followed by singing and dancing. It was fun, although I think my liver is going to keel over though. Three days of solid drinking. Urgh.
So, as I mentioned, I finished up my contract last week and have been trying to enjoy Phnom Penh a bit. I have been going out and doing the tourist things around town which has also been cool. Tomorrow I am off to Ho Chi Minh City to meet my cousin Liz and her partner Paul. I am looking forward to it. I haven’t been to HCMC for a few years – it will be interesting to see how it has changed.
Ok - So today is my last day of work and for the first time in months I have nothing to do. Might as well update the old blog. I am feeling really sad to leave Kampong Thom. I have really enjoyed my time here and have made many friends. It has been a really great experience, although tough at times, I feel really lucky to have had it. And maybe, just maybe, I have grown a little…
Next week I start a new job in Phnom Penh with an international development company called IDP – their focus is on education and I will be working on some scholarship stuff, research and a big TESOL conference. Where one door closes another opens. It will be a big change going from a small NGO in rural Cambodia to an international company. For starters I will be getting paid. There there will be no chickens or dogs running around the office. There will be no little children, who know three words, calling me giant. People wear shoes and stuff. Computers can update virus scanners. I won’t have to sit in the chemist or the moto shop to use email – it will be at my desk! No more handing out rice or going to meetings down muddy bogs. And my office will be air-conditioned. I am a little anxious about it at the moment, but am sure I will be fine. Phnom Penh is really a world onto itself – it is so far removed from the rest of Cambodia.
Last weekend Shin and I hosted a big party (Shin will be leaving next month too). We decided to go completely Khmer style. We hired a big marquee, tables, chairs, glasses, plates, etc, etc…we even had a chef and wait staff. Just like a Khmer wedding. And we dressed up as Khmer Princes. Needless to say, our Khmer friends love it. Everyone wanted a photo with us and told us that we looked very beautiful. They also asked us if we were getting married – a little Khmer joke – to which I retorted that I was clearly the Groom and Shin the Bride. We had some massive speakers and blasted out the music for several hours just so there was no doubt that we were having a party. It was great to have all our friends there and they plied us with presents – I got several scarfs, sarongs, a few statues, a few gold rings, a portrait of me, an old Khmer knife, a pen with laser pointer, etc…It was just like Christmas! In fact I even got a Santa hat (Cambodians really love Christmas decorations – a few places have them up year round). The best bit about the party was that I did nothing. Except wait for people to show up and get drunk. A whole crew of people cleaned up, set up, cooked, packed up and cleaned up. Ahh…to be rich in Cambodia…
So the last few weeks have been very busy. Both with work and other stuff. At work I have taken the organisation through a strategic planning process, built a management database, trained staff how to use the database, wrote some more proposals, edited some reports, went to a few meetings and finished off a new training program in local governance. I feel like I have final made a contribution to my organisation which is good. That’s what I came to do and I did it. I only wish I had a bit more time to do some more stuff. But I guess - there is always something more that can be done, especially in a place like this.
Outside of work I have spent many weekends travelling about Cambodia.
Two weeks ago all the Australian volunteers went to a conference in Phnom Penh/Sihanoukville. While the conference was average, it did give us the opportunity to do some fun things. On one of the days (International Day of the Volunteer) we all made to go down to a local school to help paint it. We broke up into groups of five and were given a few buckets, some powdered paint and what can only be described as a bundle of small reeds tied together in the form of a paint brush. Our group was under the impression that we were meant to let the kids help – so when a few turned up, we let them get right into it. The result was devastating, to say the least. There was white paint everywhere – on table, chairs, the floor, on people – and we got into trouble off the organisers. Oh well, it was fun playing with the kids. And they were getting professionals in after anyhow…seems a strange logic to me that they should choose to pull volunteers off projects that they are qualified to undertake to do something none of us were qualified for. But that is the development industry – never miss a good photo op.
After the conference Lainie and I headed to Bokor mountain; a mountain on the south coast which has beautiful views looking out over the Gulf of Thailand. Up on the top of a mountain is an old Casino and town that was built in the 30’s and is now deserted. It is quite spooky. Unfortunately the road up there is really poor and took about 3 hours. I wasn’t feeling great, so I found it particularly painful on the back of the pick up. On the way back down the pickup broke down and we had to walk half the way back. Despite the illness, it was still a nice walk through thick forest.
A few weeks ago I also did the northern temple run with a few of my colleagues and Lainie. The highlights of which were Prah Vihear and Phnom Kulen.
Prah Vihear is right on the northern border with Thailand and the road out to it (from the Cambodian side) is the worst road I have ever been on. At one point the rut in the road came up past the window and a few time we had to get out, so the taxi (a jacked up Camry) could get through. It took us a day and half to get there (about 300km). Along the road there are very few villages or people, just lots and lots of thick scrappy bushland. We travelled half a day without seeing another car. Occasionally we would see army personnel lazing about, but that was about it.
The province of Prah Vihear has a lot of problems – there are a lot of land disputes and a heavy military presence. Not much international AID reaches this remote part of Cambodia. A week before we went up there, we heard a story of two backpackers who were taken hostage during a land dispute and which resulted a few villagers being shot (this story was denied though). But we were travelling with Khmer people and they knew the areas to avoid, so we decided to go anyhow. At one point we passed through a large village which had been burnt to the ground. My counterpart, Nary, told me that a corrupt official had sold the land to a middle man, despite it being part of a National Park, who then sold it to villagers. The Government intervened, moved the people out, imprisoned the official and razed the village.
So after a day and half of very bumpy travel, we got to the base of the mountain on top of which stood the temple of Prah Vihear. The road up the mountain was also an experience. It was a half hour ride up a very steep, rocky and poor road. The road was sealed in part, but some of the parts had been washed away and there were exposed metal form work. Working along the side of the road, there were no less than three mine clearing teams. The driver told us there were heaps of mines up there. The last part of the road was so steep that the driver of the moto sat on the front nub of the moto seat and I had to hold on tight. I would have been scared to walk up it. As we rounded the top though, we saw a beautiful old temple sitting on the top looking out over an immense landscape. And then we saw the pristine, perfectly sealed and marked highway coming from the Thailand right up to the foot of the stairs and flocks of tourists.
From the Thai side, it is only a short air-conditioned bus ride to the border and a walk up the stairs. The Thai authorities charge a decent entry fee – none of which goes to the upkeep of the temple. It was hard not to resent the fresh looking tourists walk about the temple. But the temple itself was cool and it had a great view, and because of our experience getting there, I think we valued it far more than other visitors.
On the way to and from Prah Vihear we visited a few smaller temples and other places. Most of which were desertd except for our group. Having the car meant we could dictate where we went. On one night we stayed in a small town that had no electricity or running water. The guest house (the only one) powered a few lights for a few hours off car batteries. But, despite the basic environs, there was definitely something charming about the town.
We also visited Phnom Kulen, which is a bit north of Siem Reap. It is a beautiful mountain covered in thick forest where heaps of butterflies flit away amongst the trees. It has a beautiful waterfall which Khmers love to visit and swim in. Legend has it that Budda stood on Cambodia – one foot on Phnom Kulen, the other on Phnom Santuk (near Kampong Thom) – so there is also a big pagoda and stone carvings on the mountain. I really enjoyed walking thorough the crisp clean water after such a long bumpy journey.
Back in Kampong Thom the weather is heating up again. The river is getting lower, the ground water has dried up and fields are turning yellow. It is starting to look like the place I remembered when we arrived. And like the seasons, it is time for me to start again. So, I take this special experience and I go on…wow, what a year!
I hope everyone has a great Christmas and New Years.
It is hard work keeping this blog thing up. It takes much more energy than I had first thought.
The last few weeks have been pretty full. I have been trying to see things and get things done before I return. At work I have been a little frustrated trying to organise training for staff. I keep having to change times because there is something else on and I am worried I might run out of time.
A couple of weeks ago I hired a car took my counterpart, Nary, her daughters and another friend from work, Arun on a weekend visit to Kratie. We went primarily so I could visit a friend of mine and to see the fresh water dolphins that live in the Mekong river near Kratie. Don’t worry I didn’t try to eat them. They are funny little creatures – they have a fat round head and they slip up through the brown muddy waters of the river. According to Khmer folklore a snake ate a princess and they combined to become a dolphin. Still it doesn’t explain how there came to be more than one. Did the snake/princess mate with herself? Another snake? Another Princess? I was feeling a bit hairy after having had quite a few drinks the night before with my friend Larissa, so it was struggle to really enjoy the boat ride out to see the dolphins. But it was still good.
We also went to visit ‘the pagoda of one hundred poles’ which is, well, a pagoda with one hundred poles in and around it. There is another Princess buried at the pagoda. But this one was eaten by a crocodile. I tell you – it just ain’t safe being a princess in Cambodia – everything trying to eat you. But, unlike the folk lore this princess actually was eaten by a crocodile – she was bathing one day and it snapped her up. The Kings guards chased it across three provinces and caught it near Kratie where they cut it open and retrieved the princess. Too late though, she was well dead and I doubt that she looked quite as beautiful as she did in the pictures when she came out of the croc.
On the way back to town from the pagoda we went to visit a pagoda on top of a hill. The landscape around Kratie is very different to that around Kampong Thom. Where Kampong Thom is really flat, around Kratie it is quite hilly. It kind of sits at the start of the mountain range that spread up through eastern Cambodia and into Vietnam. So the view from the top of the mountain was quite beautiful.
On the way back from Kratie we visit a number of other places to break up the journey, including a temple in Kampong Cham and a dam in Kampong Thmor.
Oh, and last weekend I went to see a couple of other temple. I think they are pretty well known – they are called Angkor Watt or something. Actually Angkor Watt is only one temple, there are heaps of other sets of temples around it. Anyhow, it was a (another) long weekend last weekend, so I decided to pull my finger out and go up the road to see Angkor. I got up really early to see the sun rise and in vain hope of avoiding the crowds.
When I got to Angkor there were hundred of people just quietly standing about, facing the temple, watching for the sun rise. It was quite a surreal experience. As I cut through the crowd, in the early dawn light, heading into the temple I had the sense of leaving humanity. Because everyone was outside watching the sun rise, the temple itself was almost empty which was even spookier. At one point I found myself in a dark chamber and turned to see a huge figure in the doorway – it was a statue, but it was enough to send a shiver up my spine. It is amazing that the temples are so well preserved and you can walk all over them still. After Angkor I headed out to have breakfast and watch the sun come up of the Bayon Temple. Bayon was spires with four faces looking in each direction. I watched the shadows grow shorter across the faces as the sun went up. I spent the seven hours roaming about all the temples, and still did not see them all. It is huge, leafy and peaceful (away from the crowds). My favourite temple was Preah Kahn. It is pretty badly ruined in parts, with ancient trees growing up through the brick work (the temple with the tree growing out of it, from the movie ‘Tomb Raider’ is another temple and while more spectacular, it wasn’t my favourite), but the etchings are really well preserved.
After roaming around Angkor I met up with Lainie. We had planned do some other things around Siem Reap, but I got really sick and had to spend most of the weekend in the bathroom expelling fluids violently from every orifice in my body. Truly disgusting. Oh well, if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. It better.
And so the seasons change and so does the landscape. The rice fields are turning yellow as the rice matures for harvest. Much of the ground water has turned stagnant and is blanketed with algae. The dust from the road clouds the air as motos and cars rush by. Mangoes have started to appear in the tree branches and the climate is cool. The other day I thought it was quite cold on my way to work. When I got to the office I found that it was 28. Clearly, I am getting use to the heat.
Over the month of November people make donations to the monks and pagodas. There are lots of small festivals. I have been invited by my boss to go out to Sandan for the weekend to participate in a festival out there. I am lead to believe there will be partying and dancing. No doubt there will be loud speakers and bad music too. Sandan is pretty much the middle of no where – there is no electricity or running water and I am going to have to sleep under the stars in a hammock. Should be fun.
A few weeks ago the Cambodians celebrated Pchum Ben, a time of year when most Khmers go back to their home town, to meet their family and pay respect the dead. For three days they go to the local pagoda, make offerings and remember their relatives who have passed on. In one of those strange coincidents that haunt life, my grandmother passed away and I returned to my home town to meet with my family to pay our final respects.
It is always strange to go home; to go from such an extremely poor and underprivileged area to such a rich and comfortable one. It is hard to hear people complain about, what seem to me, trivial problems. I have to keep reminding myself that people only have their own experience and everything is relevant to that. But on the flight home to Sydney I had the displeasure of sitting near a particularly arrogant buffoon, who kept complaining to the stewards. ’I need more Tabasco for my bloody mary.’ ‘My fish is too dry I can’t eat it. Get me another one.’ I could have clocked him the head. I wanted to shout at him ‘You are on a plane! You are in economy class! Get over yourself!’. But I kept it in and ravaged the best meal that I had had in months. Either airline food has come along way or I was desperate.
Although, I have been expecting it for sometime and I thought I was prepared for it, it was still difficult getting the news about my Nanna. No doubt this was further exacerbated by the fact that I was in the middle of nowhere with no one really close to talk to about it. Even though I have travel much further a field in my times, I don’t think I have ever felt so far from home. At first I didn’t know what to feel and what to do. I was in reeling wandering around the house. I guess that is shock for you. But I got it together and got back home fairly quickly in the end.
Back home, everyone was much happier, making jokes and being more upbeat then I had imagined they would be. We don’t get together much these days, with us all living in different parts of the world. My parents, sisters and I have not stayed under one roof in about 10 years, so in many ways it was a happy reunion. But as usual everyone tried to boss me around.
The funny thing about families they can be simultaneously the most critical and supportive people in you life. They know the right and wrong things to say and don’t care if they offend you. But it was really nice to see them and my friends, to go to the funeral and to say one last goodbye along side them. I am not sure how I would have coped if I had stayed in Cambodia.
After a week at home, I flew to Bankok where I met up with Lainie. Prior to the news of my grandmother we had planned a two week holiday that was cut down to one week.
In some ways it was even more challenging being in Thailand than going home. Thailand, especially Bangkok, is so much more developed than Cambodia. They are right next to each other, but they seem worlds apart. Thais have free education, a better medical support system than in Australia, roads, gutters, efficient transport, drinkable tap water, tourism and stacks of people. But there are heaps and heaps of sexpats lurking about.
From Bangkok we went to Chaing Mai where spent a few days looking at things around the moated city and a few more days trekking in the national park. Despite the fact it rained and, due to a pair of cheap Market bought shoes, I spent much of the trek sliding down muddy slopes on my arse, it was, by far, the highlight of Chaing Mai. We spent three days walking through the beautiful mountains staying with local Karen people (a minority hill group). We also went out to visit a Hmong village and to several pagodas.
The next few days we spent in Phuket, where the tourism and over development almost destroys the natural beauty of the beaches. The water was so clear and the sand so white. Paradise with people. Fortunately, we were staying a bit away from the busier beaches, so it wasn’t too bad. Lainie’s sister, her husbands (Lainie’s sisters husband that is) and their baby girl were staying in Phuket for a week, so we went to meet them. On one of the days we took a tour out to the islands, with about 500 other people, and saw the magnificent natural formations of Phi Phi Island, and went snorkelling on some beautiful reefs. Despite the people, it was still nice.
So I have been back at work this week and I have heaps to do. I only have two months left now and I wanted to make the most of it work and travel wise. This weekend has been another long week – Coronation Day. Long live the king! Today we went out to visit a friend of a friend of mine who is building a cultural village about an hour away from Kampong Thom. They are making a mini Angkor Watt, Prah Vihear, some mountains and islands with villas. It is in a nice spot and will be quite nice when it is finished – alas, that is about 3 years away.
On Saturday, Shin and I had a busy day back in Kampong Thom.
First, we went out to a farm with some of Shin’s colleagues where I had another run in with death as they slaughtered a goat. We got to watch as they cut it up. I have never watched an animal be slaughtered from start to spit, so it was all kind of gross to me. I am such a city boy. For some reason I was particularly put off by the splitting of the ribs and, because that is the way my life works and I had that thought, I got the ribs to eat. It was almost enough to make me want to be vegetarian. Cambodians, like most Asians, are not squeamish when it comes to meat. They eat the whole thing. It was a male goat, and perhaps predictably, Shin and I were also given the penis and balls to eat. I ate it, but I felt violated. So, if you are wondering what goat dick tastes like, you take a piece of string, wrap it in lamb fat and char grill it beyond recognition and it wouldn’t be far off. The balls, on the other hand, were far more diverse in flavour and texture. A very chewy outside or ‘sack meat’ that tasted similar to the penis, and stayed in my mouth far too long, with a softer tofu like consistency inner bit that had an odd egg white lamb-esk taste. I almost retched. But I got it down in the end – I swallow rather than spit - and we washed it down with copious amounts of beer. It is with a mixture of pride and gut churning illness that I re-count this event.
In the afternoon we headed out to watch the annual Kampong Thom boat races. We had been trying to angle our way onto one of the boats but, alas, had failed. So we contented ourselves by drinking beer with the locals and watching the races from the bank. It is a fairly big event on the Kampong Thom province social diary - heaps of the villagers came into town to watch. The crowd was 10 deep at the finish line and about 40 boats racing two by two. The boats are narrow long and brightly painted with, you guessed it - dragons! In the bigger boats about 50 stand and row with their whole bodies. It is amazing that they keep in time and don’t capsize. The bests boats go to Phnom Penh for the big races during the national water festival in November.
In the evening, I went along to another party. There is a new foreigner, Oskar, in town with his Khmer fiancé and they were having a house warming. The party was a typical Khmer affair. Men on one side of the room, women on the other. Great food, loads of beer and dancing around a table. But it was still fun. I realised while I was there just how much my Khmer has improved. I was having conversations right, left and centre.
On Sunday I followed up my hangover with another party. This one was for one of my drinking buddies’, Peng, kids birthdays. Another drinking friend, Taut, has just had a new born, so it was a bit of a double celebration of young life. It is a bit unusual for Khmers to celebrate birthdays, but the richer ones do. Again there was great food, beer and dancing around a table. The kids sprayed foam and silly string while the fathers threw cake at each other. I was enjoying dancing with the kids (sometimes I get the feeling I get invited to things for my entertainment value) but owing to the excitement of the previous day I made my excuses and left early to watch a ghost movie on TV.
Last week, when I got back from work I noticed that one of the staff (who lives with my boss out the back of the office – I am not sure how they are related) had two black eyes and appeared to be nursing his ribs. The other staff told me he had been in a bad traffic accident a few days before. It was too expensive for home to stay in the hospital so the family were looking after him. He had been on a moto with two of his friends when they crashed with another moto. One of his friends died and the rest were badly injured. Not wearing a helmet - he was lucky.
The other day I also had the miss-fortune of walking in on some staff watching a graphic Police video from a tourist bus crash in Vietnam. The video featured dead people missing all sorts of body parts, one especially terrible decapitation, lying contoured over the road. It was clearly a terrible accident and nearly the whole office was watching it together. I was both repulsed and intrigued by the video. I had never seen anything quiet so graphic before.
And so it is that I have been thinking about death a bit of late. I use to think that the Khmers had a certain nonchalance to death, that they did not value life as much as we did; that they had more children in order to compensate for their lack of life span. Certainly the way they flaunt safety on the roads and on building sights gives that impression. But the reaction of my Khmer friends from work when I told them that my grandmother had died was both tender and compassionate. To them, it was clear that I should go home and grieve with my family. For Khmer people, it is important to look after your family and to grieve with them. But I have come to realise that I was, yet again, brining my own cultural prejudice to the fore. I was judging their ways from my own experiences. Khmers don’t know how to do things more safely, or if they do, then the cost of doing things safer, exceeds the value of doing something. Like us, they take calculated risks. It is just that calculations in a developing world are lower than in the developed world. Death is more frequent, public and accepted - but it is still a time for grief and respect.
So I have now been here for six months. It seems like the time has flown by, but at the same time it feels like it has been so long since I left home. Things are going well though. I feel like I have really settled into things now – both at work and at home.
I do miss home though. I miss the familiarity and the ease of it all. I especially miss my friends and family and the ease of conversation that you can have with them. It is strange though. It comes in waves, often when I least expect it...
I am well known around Kampong Thom now. Out of a population of over 50,000 there are about 8 foreigners, and given my height and pale complexion I tend to stand out. At the local restaurants the staff often come up and talk to me, occasionally I get caught up in an importune English lesson or they teach me some Khmer words. Some of the younger guys like to hug me from behind and rub my belly (I think they thick it is good luck). It is kind off putting when you are trying to eat, but that is how they are here. It is a sign of affection and acceptance, so it is kind of nice. I still find it funny that guys can be so openly touchy and feely toward each other, but if they touched a girl there would be uproar.
A few weeks ago Shin’s NGO organised a HIV/AIDS workshop for local NGO workers dealing with HIV/AIDS. The workshop was run by a Nigerian girl who was an expert in HIV/AIDS. I decided to go along and learn a bit more about HIV/AIDS and to see what the Khmer people thought about it. There were definitely some naive and funny questions. But my favourite was “If a man puts on a condom and they sneezed wouldn’t it fly off?” Of course, we weren’t suppose to laugh about this, but it was hard not to. I learnt a bit myself though, I didn’t know much about the anti-viral treatments used to treat people living with HIV/AIDS and how they worked. It also put into my head what a really terrible disease it can be and how much people must suffer both physically and mentally after acquiring it. It is a death sentence - a slow and painful one. It is really quite scary.
As part of the workshop we went out to visit the local VCCT Clinic at the local hospital. The VCCT clinic offers free blood tests and counselling for people who want to get tested for HIV. The doctor there told us that about 6% of the people that come through the clinic are infected with HIV. That is a massive figure for any disease, but for a disease that is practically a death sentence, it is horrifying.
Throughout the course it became apparent that many of the participants were a bit shy about talking about some of the subjects, especially sex and were unsure of how the whole blood tests worked. So, after checking with the course convener that it was safe to do so, I volunteered to go through the blood test and counselling in front of the group.
Now there is a new experience. Sitting in a room with a doctor, translator and a group of Khmer NGO workers talking about my sex life – I could tell when the personal questions were coming because the room would giggle before I got the translation and then giggle again after I answered. The good news is that I don’t have HIV. Even though I was pretty sure I didn’t, it was still a nerve racking 15 minute wait (I can’t imagine how it would have been like to wait for weeks like in the bad old days) with the images I had been looking at over the past few days whirling though my mind. Made worse by the fact that everyone kept coming up to me and asking ‘aren’t you scared?’ - well, I wasn’t. But now you guys are making me nervous. When I went back in for the results my translator, Song, jumped in the air, cheered and high-fived me. I assumed all was good at that point – but checked the test results anyway.
After I demonstrated to the group how easy it was a few other of the participants also decided to get blood tests while we were there. And I suspect a few went back after. I think it was a great relief, especially for the women, to know they were negative (they just don’t know whether there husbands are playing safe of not and it is not cool for them to ask). So, I am happy that I choose to lead by example.
That night Shin (who also took the test after me) and I decided to celebrate the Khmer way by getting drunk and picking up some hookers at the local Karaoke Bar – I am joking. About the drinking. OK - And the hookers.
Aside from the training I have been quite busy at work. I am progressing on my ‘sustainable communities’ project – putting together concept notes, training plans and proposals. I have started to organise the start of a strategic planning for my NGO – we are going to go on a staff retreat in October to put it together. I have been doing background research on databases and monitoring the information flows throughout the organisation so I can build an effective database. It is good – I feel like things are progressing well and that I am going to achieve a few things before I wrap up. If I had left now I would not have been close to getting any of these near completion.
Aside from my work, I have also been to a few more community meetings after hours and I managed to organise a few days away to show Lainie’s NGO a little about databases and Access. In return, Lainie gave me some information on Quickbooks (a financial management program). I plan on integrating Quickbooks into a management database for my NGO, so all the information about the NGO is just at their finger tips. I hope. I am really learning on the run myself.
Aside from work and my visit to Poipet, not a lot has been happening. I have just been hanging around Kampong Thom a lot. It gets tedious travelling so much and sometimes it is nice just to kick around the house and hang out with my friends Kampong Thom. Although, I am usually bored out of my mind by the time Sunday night comes around. There are only so many times I can get drunk and sing Karaoke. Aside from travelling, drinking, reading or watch crap TV there ain’t a whole lot to do in rural Cambodia.
One thing that I did do the other day was drink snakes blood. We were at one of the guys houses drinking when they pulled it out. O had mentioned previously that I was keen to try the snake blood drink. Don’t get any romantic visions of them draining a snake into my drink. It was in a dirty old Johnny walker bottle. Apparently blood layers if you leave it for long enough – the congealed bits settle to the bottom. So you have to give it a good shake before you pour it. Just like a popper! I won’t lie – it looked and smelt foul. They poured the blood into my glass then topped it up with some whisky. I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat as I looked at the glass, so I snatched it up and downed it in one go before my body stopped me. And the taste – well, surprisingly, it didn’t taste that bad. The whisky flavour dominated so I didn’t actually taste the blood. Apparently drinking snakes blood makes you more virile. So, look out ladies…
I also heard the other day that men here drink fermented baby deer antlers as a kind of natural viagra. I am not joking – it sells for about $100 for a little bottle and Khmer friends (educated men) swear it works. But they did warn me, if you take it and you are too young (i.e. not yet a man) then you will start bleeding from your eyes and ears. I might give that one a miss then…
On a completely different topic - I was reading a book the other day that mentioned that Pol Pot grew up in Kampong Thom. I was a bit spun out by this and started to make a few subtle enquiries, thinking that I might be able to go and check out his house. It turns out his childhood house is on the same street that I work on! It is a long street, but I must have gone past it a few times. Apparently his brother and sister still live there. I am still quite keen to check it out, but word on the street is – is that his brother is still quite pissed off about his brother being Pol Pot and is not exactly welcoming to the attention.
The brother only found out that Pol Pot was his brother after the Khmer Rouge’s brutal reign. He didn’t know Pol Pot was his brother because Pol Pot is not his real name – he changed from Salot Sor to Pol Pot after he returned to Cambodia from studying in Paris and hooked up with the Khmer Rouge. When the Khmer Rouge took over the country they destroyed television and news papers, so the family of Salot Sor had no idea that Pol Pot was there brother. The family of Salot Sor were treated the same as everyone else during the Khmer Rouge – they too were forced from their homes and into labour camps. Many of Salot Sor’s family died during the Khmer Rouge period, no doubt hoping that there brother was still in Paris and avoiding all the horror. So when the pictures of Pol Pot and his the story of his past came to light, after the regime had fallen, the remanets of Salot Sor’s family finally found out that their brother was the leader of a regime that brutally killed many of their family and friends. I can understand why he might be pissed off about that…it ain’t like your sister taking your CD without asking.
I hope my family and friends are well. Happy Birthday Helen!
So the past few weeks have been really busy – both with work and social life. I have had hardly any time to myself.
A few weeks ago Lainie and I went to visit some friends in Battambang for the weekend. It is a long way there, for me, because you have to go all the way around the lake. It is at least 7 hours. Last time I was there, I hardly saw anything, so this time we decided to go and see some stuff. We went out to a dam and irrigation system that was built by the Khmer Rouge. The system still works today and is the main reason that the Battambang Province is famous, well famous in Cambodia, for all its quality produce – particularly their oranges and rice (outside of Cambodia Battambang Province is more famous for being the Province where Angelina Jolie’s adopted child is from and their ‘millennium village’ project). Around Battambang, they harvest rice yields twice a year, rather than just once. However, the cost for building the dam was thousands of lives. One of the moto drivers, who took us on the long bumpy trek out to the dam, actually helped to construct it and told us that many people were buried in the foundations. Now, ironically, the dam is a bit of a tourist attraction, particularly for Cambodians. You can sit in a thatched shanty and eat fish caught fresh from the water. After we munched down some fish we hired some big black inner tubes went for a swim with some local kids. It was quite fun and the water was so cool and clean.
That night a few of us head out to ‘sky’ the local night club. There were only a few westerners there, so we attracted a bit of attention. A few guys tried their English out on me, even when I was at the urinal. At one point I had three guys, one massaging my back, talking to me while I was trying to go. It was the kind of place you can only buy drinks by the bottle (i.e. a bottle of vodka, scotch), so inevitably we were in for a big one. I don’t remember finishing the bottle of vodka, but I must have. It was a funny place. The air conditioning was pumping just as loud as the music and coloured lights flashed away. Down on the dance floor I impressed the locals with my repertoire of disco dance struts and found myself with a little friend holding onto the front of my shirt, copying my moves, for a good hour or so.
The next day I had to get up at 6am to catch the boat to Siem Reap. Thankfully, Lainie had set the alarm for me and I stumbled out of bed, probably still drunk, in time to catch the boat. The boat ride between Battambang and Siem Reap is a long but pretty one as it winds down the river through farm lands, mangroves, bird sanctuaries, small villages and across the Tonle Sap (the biggest lake in South East Asia). Unfortunately, I was in no state to enjoy it much. I was too busy nursing my hang over and trying not being sick over the side. The ‘fast boat’ took over 7 hours to make the journey (at worst it could be 11 hours) – the journey around the lake on a bumpy dirt road to Siem Reap takes about 4 hours. So, if you ask me there was nothing fast about the ‘fast boat’. For the first hour of the ride I kept wondering when we get to the ‘fast boat’, thinking that the boat we were on was only a taxi. The boat was packed with tourists and I must have looked a sight as I stumbled on last and collapsed into the seat at the front next to the driver. All I wanted to do was curl up on top of everyone’s bags and go back to sleep, but everyone was facing towards me and would have seen me - so that option was out. One old German tourist kept checking his GPS system the whole way. Nerd. After I got to Siem Reap it was still another 2 and a half hours to Kampong Thom. I was happy to get home by that stage – over 12 hours door to door with a throbbing hang over. I am not doing that again.
While we were in Battambang we also got a hair cut from Ana, one of our friends, who is an ex-hair dresser. I am now sporting a delightful little mullet. However, while she was cutting our hair she discovered some nit eggs in both Lainie and my hair. We have no idea where they came from. Most likely some of the children we have been in contact with. I didn’t have time to go to the chemist in Battambang and it turned out getting nit hair wash is no easy task in Kampong Thom. I had to ask around at the Chemists and then, when that failed, had to ask the guys from work. Naturally, they all thought it was hilarious. Turns out you can’t get nit hair wash in Kampong Thom. So then I had to ask my friend Tim, who was coming up to Kampong Thom for meeting, to bring some from Phnom Penh. Tim tells me when he asked for the hair wash at the chemist the girl at the counter slowly backed away and indicated he should go the other end of the store. ‘It’s not for me, it’s for my friend’ he pleaded, but still she stood back, with a look of disgust on her face, and pointed…
So the following weekend a group of our friends came up to visit from Phnom Penh. Shin and I had been thinking about hiring a boat and doing a day trip on the Stung Sen, the river which passes through Kampong Thom. The river starts off in the north of Cambodia, near Prah Vihear near the Thai border and winds its way down to the Tonle Sap. For some weeks the river has been high and fast moving, threatening to burst its banks near our house. In the north of the Province, in the areas around Sandan, they have seen the worst flooding in 20 years; some 30,000 people have been cut off from food and fresh water. Many of the new bridges and roads, built during the dry season, were swept away by the force of the water. At home, the Prime Minister would have flown out and declared it a natural disaster. There would have been a big relief effort; the army would have probably gone in to get people out. But this is Cambodia, the government did nothing. There was no relief effort. There is no insurance or medical assistance. There weren’t even any reports in the newspaper. People just dealt with it. It is not like they weren’t expecting the rain and flooding. It happens every year. Although, not always so bad. That’s why they build there houses on stilts. People will probably die from starvation and disease. But no one is really keeping figures. I only know about it because my colleagues and friends who work in the area and couldn’t get out to see their clients.
So anyhow, we decided to do a boat trip. After some fierce bargaining, which we lost, we hired a covered putt-putt boat from one of the locals. A couple of our friends from, work joined us too – including one of my colleagues, Arun, who is 24 but had never been on a boat or to Tonle Sap (mostly because she can’t swim and is scared of the water - we reassured, telling her that nearly all our friends are good swimmers, because we all learn to swim young). We packed on the BBQ, a couple of eskies brimming with beers, sun cream and a pack of cards and set off. It was beautiful sunny day and was really nice on the river. The boat was big enough for us to sprawl out on plastic mats. So we all just kicked back in took in the scenery – waving to all the little kids that waved to us from the shore.
Outside of town the river had burst its banks and we went had to negotiate the channels of a rice paddy before pushing on along the river to Tonle Sap. The further we got from town, the more and more run down the houses got. After a while all that lined the shores were small clusters of shabby little shanties where only the very poor live and survive solely from their fish catches in the river. The rights to fishing in the river were sold to companies by the government, so even this simply activity is fraught with danger, as the people ‘illegally’ catch enough fish to live on.
After about four hours we reached the floating village which sits at the mouth of the Stung Sen. There we got out and had lunch at the boat owner’s house/shop. Part of lunch was prohop, a fermented mushy brown fish dish which could quite possibly be the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten (it easily tasted worse than the ball-like membrane things I ate out of a snake the other day). After lunch we went for a swim in the muddy dull brown waters of the lake (and probably caught several yet to be identified parasites). But it was still nice to go swimming - the water was fresh and tasted like soil.
The trip back to Kampong Thom was a slow one as the boat pushed on against the fast moving current. The water eddying away at the side of the river gave an indication of just how fast the water was moving. But it wasn’t till we stopped and jumped in that we got the full impact. We would jump in at the front, swim as a hard as we could to stay in the one spot and then let ourselves be taken to the rear of the boat. Then repeat. It was quite fun. It took a good 7 hours to get back to Kampong Thom, but we were rewarded with a most spectacular sunset over the winding rivers. The last few hours of the boat ride passed with us singing songs by a little exposed electric light as we boat cut through the dark water.
The day after the boat trip our friends all headed back to Phnom Penh and I headed to Siem Reap to meet my friend Louise who was flying in from Australia. Lousie had been to Cambodia before but was interested to see ‘the other side’ of the country. She stayed with us for a few days and ventured out with both my NGO and Shin’s NGO for a couple of field visits to see some orphans, people living with HIV and peer training programs. She seemed quite happy to take it all in, but I think the highlight of her visit was riding on a moto, on a little boat, to cross water channels where the road had once been…
The following weekend I went with Louise back to Siem Reap to see her off and meet Lainie, who was on her way to visit me in Kampong Thom. Before we left Siem Reap Lainie and I went to meet a monk who Lainie had befriended and who is keen to build a new school in his home town of Kratie. Lainie has been helping him put together a funding proposal and in a few weeks we hope to go and check out the site.
On the Sunday I took Lainie out on my moto to visit the 9th century temples near Kampong Thom called Prasart Sambor Prey Kuk. The road there alone is worth the ride as it winds through the local villages and rice fields. The temples are considerably older than Angkor Watt and made from mud brick. Set among the forest, many of them have slowly been eroded by the weather over the years. We spent most of the day wondering around with an entourage of ten children who were keen to practice their English and sell some hand made scarfs.
On the way out we decided to check out a group of temples which were a few kilometres apart from the main group of temples at Prey Kuk. The road out to these temples was a little-used sandy track, perhaps a metre wide, which wound through the thick jungle. At times it hard work not letting the bike slip away in the sand and then we hit the mine field…
Now, it is quite possible I have gone through a few mine fields since I have been here and been completely oblivious. However, this one was clearly marked. There were little red signs all along the track and red tape from the edges of the road going back into the foliage. Needless to say, I stopped at this point, partly because the road forked, but mostly because of the mine signs. We could see a local working in a field a behind us, so I went back and asked her which way we should go to the temples (my Khmer is improving). She told us to go straight ahead. We hesitate and then decided to follow the tracks of another moto which had clearly been past recently. Nervously and slowly we went over the now rough track and rounded a bend just in time to see the owner of the moto flying back the other way. He turned out to be local teacher who wanted to practice his English and was putting together a class on the temples. He asked if he could take us around. Fearing more land mines, we gladly accepted the invitation and followed him through a few creaks and along the eroded dirt path up to the temples.
The temples, although small, were spectacular. The thick canopy gave them this magical green light. The trees and moss had overgrown many of the dark stones of the ruins. And it was quiet – so quiet it was eerie. All we could hear were the sounds of the jungle, our feet crunching on the thick undergrowth and squeals of pain when we were bitten by some massive blood thirsty ants. Tourists hardly ever came here, these temples sat as they had for centuries. I could imagine how the first Europeans who unearthed Angkor Watt must have felt…it was magical.
Aside from visitors, I have been really quite busy at work too - preparing funding proposals and working on a new management database for my NGO. I felt like I was burning the candle at both ends and I was glad this week to get some time to myself and completely chill out. This weekend I plan on doing nothing.
