Khmer New Year was the third “new year” Cambodia celebrated, following the International New Year and Chinese New Year. I didn’t know much about the actual holiday or which calendar I was supposed to be following, but I did learn (only a couple days before everyone abandoned Phnom Penh) that I had a week of vacation to see as much of this country as possible. All of the Khmer people living in the city travel to their homelands in the province to visit family during this time. It was a special time for them, which made it a special time for me. I didn’t have much of a plan for the week, but I knew people who did, so I rode their coattails to Seim Reap and Sihanoukville. Two different friends, two different itineraries, and two cities in opposite parts of Cambodia. As a result, I spent more time on the Mekong Express than I did at any particular destination, but it was worth the travel time and the leg crunch that comes with being six feet tall in a five foot world.
The first leg of my journey started early Monday morning. I hadn’t even confirmed plans with my new friend, but I packed my bags, hoping she would be waiting with my ticket. I hopped on the back of a moto-taxi – my big purple backpack strapped to my shoulders, my messenger bag wedged between the legs of the driver, a plastic map in my left hand, and the rest of my coffee in a melting plastic cup in my right. If Cambodians can pack six people, two live chickens and a fifty pound bag of rice on a motorcycle, I can manage to travel this way too. We drove to the bus stop, where I met my friend and another traveling companion. We laughed at the idea that three people, all strangers really, would be spending three days together. It seems to be a common story here. We boarded the bus, and I spent the next six hours wishing I could shave five inches off of my femur.
The road to Seim Reap goes through the heart of Cambodia - in more ways than one. Not only did we travel through the center of the country geographically, we also wound through villages of multiple provinces, allowing us to get a very real look at the lives of the people living here. The majority of the Cambodian people live in rural areas, and most are extremely poor. Many rely on the support of relatives who have moved to the city – and though Phnom Penh is not a wealthy city, the people living and working there are rich by comparison. The houses in the province are very simple, just one room shared by generations. Many homes are perched on stilts to avoid the flooding that occurs during wet season. The roofs and walls are thatched, and the boarded floors still offer a view of the ground. Huge cauldrons collect their only source of water, a precious resource, especially now. We are in the thick of hot season – and that label is no joke. It’s hot. Everyone slows down a little as the sun snatches every electrolyte and drop of hydration. From the window, I could see people clinging to paper fans, spread out flat on their backs, trying to conserve as much energy as possible. The road was lined with small tables set up to display fruits and vegetables, spiders, coconuts and lotus seeds. Men and women waited all day for someone to pull over and purchase their goods, like kids at a lemonade stand. Palm trees created a canopy above the rivers and sections of the road, and fields sprawled across most of the land. Everything is so dry right now – the people, the cows and even the ground look thirsty.
That being said, once we arrived in Seim Reap and spoke with the owner of our guest house, we learned that April is, in fact, the worst time to visit – apparently rain forests don’t have the same wild, green, mystical look when there’s no rain. No matter. We were there, and we were determined to see the temples. We climbed one of the temples in time to see sunset, which was gorgeous. We were in good company, as about five thousand people had the same plan. The next day was full of temple crawling as well. Our goal was to see the sunrise as well, so we woke up around five o’clock in the morning. We spent too much time talking with our Australian guesthouse owner and his two birds and missed the first glimpse of the sun, but we were still the first people to arrive at Bayon Temple - a very cool experience. The three of us climbed around the huge stones and stared down the faces that looked us in the eye. It was absolutely silent except for the sounds of distant monkeys, geckos and birds. I felt like an archaeologist … and a little like Indiana Jones. I was kind of expecting a guy with a machete to jump out of a cavern. It was both serene and eerie. The moment of exploration ended quickly as people piled out of tour buses and the temples turned into a Disneyland attraction, and the rest of the day was just plain hot. By the time we made it to Angkor Wat –the pinnacle, the center of the park, the reason people travel to Cambodia - my brain was milk toast and my shirt resembled a locker room towel. So we took some pictures then found a pool. I have promised not to complain about the heat too much, but it had to have been over a hundred degrees most days - I don’t know what the humidity index was either, but the sweat on my shirt indicated that it was about 120%. My only statement: I hate the equator.
The second leg of my trip was refreshing. After another ten hours on a bus, I landed on the beach at Sihanoukville. I had been there already on a field trip, but making sure seventy-five kids don’t drown is not relaxing. This time I was able to order about fifteen coconut shakes (they were cheaper than bottles of water) and eat fresh barracuda. I think Jimmy Buffet would dig this place. The first day, we just lounged. Didn’t think, didn’t even move much – except to the neighboring restaurant for a plate of chips and salsa. By the next day, my friend and I were restless, and it was overcast (which was pretty nice), so we decided to play. We rented a moto from the hotel, and I became motodope driver for the day. I did a couple laps around the block before adding another person to the equation, but she trusted me for some reason and jumped on the back. We lurched down the road, and I had to keep my head on a swivel so I didn’t collide with a cow, another moto, or a tuk tuk going upstream. We stopped on the side of the road to fuel up – which means that we bought an old 1.5 liter Pepsi bottle filled with yellow fluid – and headed toward the beach. Parts of the road were washed out, and pot holes dotted the concrete, but my rides with Cruger prepared me well. We went kayaking for the afternoon - I was so happy just to be on the water and see some mountains in the distance. I loved spending time with Beate - we sat in the water eating fried rice, trying to figure out why life is so weird. Those are my favorite moments... pondering and wondering without finding any real answers. Then the next morning she rented a sailboat and taught me the ropes. It was great, but the idea of sailing in the Gulf of Thailand is a bit more romantic than it actually was – high temperatures, a rolling sea and a belly full of coffee and condensed milk is not a good combination. I was about two waves from throwing up in the beautiful Gulf of Thailand. I bailed from the boat about a hundred meters from shore and swam to solid ground. I don’t know why I subject myself to the ocean over and over again. I tried to eat squid salad afterward to cap off my week (ordered chicken salad… lost in translation or Cambodian prank?). The man driving the van back to the city kept waving his hand in front of his face and gave me dirty looks while my group of new friends tried to act like they didn’t mind the smell of my lunch. Not the best way to make friends. Seasick, cramped, and sweating, it was so nice to get out of Phnom Penh for a while, and have a few new adventures.
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