On the Road: Cambodia

On the Move

Ok. Next, up is Cambodia. A small country with a bloody past. Then there's the great temple complex of Angkor Wat among other things. Keen to experience and learn, I arrived by plane, got a 30 day tourist visa and was ready to go. Now let's see what I did.

BCI

I'm not sure why I keep teaching kids. I can't say I enjoy it as much as I once did. But at the same time it's easy work with plenty of perks. To start, the students look up to me, the parents appreciate what I do, and in a way I'm helping to make society better. Plus, there is really no place that couldn't use another experienced teacher. Even if they don't have money to pay the person, they'll gladly receive them if the teacher volunteers. That was how I came to teach orphans in Siem Reap.

I found the place--Bridge Cambodia International--through workaway.info. On the website, BCI was one of three orphanages in Siem Reap looking for volunteers, and of them, it seemed the most legitimate based on what former volunteers had written. So I agreed to help for two weeks. When I arrived, the kids were already in bed, but I met the orphanage director Hong. She had a room ready and informed me that another volunteer Michael was also on site. He too had come from America and together we would teach English to the kids.

It did not take long for me to realize what a good thing Hong had set up. But lets start at the beginning. The way Hong's story goes, she was a young woman when the Khmer Rouge came to power. During this period her entire family was killed and she barely made it to a Thai refuge camp across the border. After that an American NGO sponsored and relocated her to California. Now, all these years later she wants to help a new generation of children without parents. She's taken in 28 of them and sees to it they have a good upbringing, and moreover, by becoming a host on the workaway website she's able to bring in a steady rotation of volunteer teachers to interact with the kids. It showed in how they spoke. The country of Cambodia is not English proficient, yet the orphans had a firm grasp on the language, the older ones being the best.

Oddly, Hong herself had trouble with English. She was also hard of hearing. It at times made communication difficult but the woman managed to always get her point across. And once I'd understand her, I helped in any way I could. This included peeling vegetables, installing shelves and assembling a bed with a mosquito net. At one point I even cut some of the boys' hair using clippers. I wasn't the only one keeping busy either. Everyone helped everyone, the children included. Watching them go about their tasks, I found them to be surprisingly skilled for their young age. For example one boy could work a hammer much better than me. And the girls were all excellent cooks. They did everything from killing a duck, to de-feathering it, to chopping it up for the stove.

Homemade meal

Class time

My room

One of six puppies

Volunteers

Angkor Wat

After a week of teaching kids I spent my free day touring Angkor Wat. It's the place everyone sees in Siem Reap--or Cambodia for that matter--and I was determined to photograph the main temple at sunrise. With another two volunteers I hired a tuk-tuk and we set out at 5AM. That gave us plenty of time to arrive at the park entrance, buy a ticket and find a good spot. When we'd finally sat down, I was surprised to see hundreds of others were already gathered in the early twilight. They came from all over--Asians, Europeans, Americans. A few Cambodian tourists also added to the mix, but unlike everyone else, they could enter for free as opposed to paying $20.

As the largest religious monument in the world, Angkor Wat had no shortage of things to see. In fact, to check out all the temples would take a solid three days. I gave myself only one. After sunrise we continued on to Bayon temple which was built at a time when the Khmer Empire had shifted from Hinduism to Buddhism. It contained major influences from both religions, as do most traditional Khmer buildings, and I was awed by the many faces carved into the temple towers. But it was difficult to feel that I was standing in some ancient jungle temple. There were simply too many tourists, and to worsen matters they often ruined my shots by stepping in front of me.

In the end the tuk-tuk driver took us to 5 temples (as many as we cared to see in the midday heat) and they were each nice in their own way. For example, Ta Phrom temple had trees roots growing out of the walls and looked otherwise impressive with its tightly built corridors and abrupt towers. Because of this a filming crew used the location for a scene in the first Tomb Raider movie so it's now known as the Lara Croft Temple. Like so many other places in the whole of Angkor Wat, it is still being restored. The interesting thing is that after the Khmer Empire was conquered in the 15th century, Angkor Wat was never entirely abandoned. It just fell into disrepair. To fix the problem a percentage of ticket sales goes towards the restoration work. A German company currently heads the project.

Main temple

Ta Phrom

Art for sale

Breaking dawn

Stone faces

Looking down

Orphans

Before arriving in Siem Reap, I knew the kids I'd work with were parentless. Yet in spite of this, I couldn't help thinking they looked and acted like ordinary kids. There were the shy quiet ones, the smart brainy types, the one gay boy who could dance really well, and then of course the hard to deal with attention grabbers. But whatever their personality, they had good hearts. Discipline wasn't much of an issue either because Hong wouldn't stand for misbehavior. She did not hesitate to snap at even the smallest of the children, which to some of the volunteers seemed a bit much. Not to me because though. I've learned over the years that immediate, harsh punishment is often the most effective way to keep a large group of kids in order.

Anyhow, the girls were much more mature than the boys. They slept in a long a narrow room, two to a bed. The boys had an identical room opposite the main building and the bathrooms were in the back. The toilets were the squatter types that needed to be flushed with buckets of water. The same water was used in the morning to bathe. Then the children would go to school and later come home at lunchtime. So it wasn't until around 1pm that we volunteers began the English lessons. When I came to the orphanage, a teacher from before had just taught them Let It Go. The older kids sang it well, clearly wanting to practice over and over again, but the lyrics made my stomach churn. I soon insisted they learn another. For whatever the reason, they chose Because of You, by Kelly Clarkson. Not much of an improvement, it too had my guts begging for a reprieve. But I could not deny the children. So I toughed it out for a week before introducing a song of my own--No Woman, No Cry. The boys took to it, and I eventually had them belting out Bob Marley. I reckoned out of all my time as a teacher it may've been my finest accomplishment.

Though I did not pry into the children's pasts their stories began to surface. Hong was one source of information, the other volunteers a second. By listening to them I learned that the boy Bonchea had been abandoned by his parents on account of his being a dwarf. The boy was also left with a permanent limp on his left side after his father had thrown him into a wall. Then there was Thea, a soft spoken twenty-one year old. He had a wooden prosthetic leg, and compared to the rest, seemed too old to be at the orphanage. The guy's story was a heartbreaking one as well. Years before he'd lost his parents and the leg in a scooter accident, and after such a tough break in life, where else could he have gone? Some of the other kids had also said their parents were dead. I listened with genuine sympathy, yet regardless of how much they'd suffered before, I noticed the mark of sadness was not upon them. They were happy, healthy kids living in a well run orphanage and I was a glad to be a part of it if even for a short time. Hong once boasted that she'd never had a run away. It was easy to understand why.

With the kids

Lunch

Another puppy

When working with a group of kids, you can't help but pick favorites. For me I had two--one boy and one girl. The boy's name was Kimhak. Small and quick to laugh, he had a certain charm about him. But what I found most endearing was his wide eyed innocence. The boy's birthday also coincided with my stay. I'd gone to Angkor Wat that day, and after returning discovered he'd left for the night to visit a relative. The following morning I woke to see him playing in the neighbor's field. "It's me Kimhak," he said. "It's my birthday."

I shook my head and replied, "No Kimhak. Yesterday was your birthday." Then looking him in the eye and with a straight face, I added, "It's too bad you weren't here to enjoy it. We had a big party for you with food and music." Oh how the boy's expression turned to one of great disappointment, the very look of a child who'd just swallowed a fly. At this point I should have came clean, saying it was a joke, but I sometimes can't keep myself from taking pleasure in the emotional manipulation of children. So let it stand. Of course Kimhak learned from the others that I'd lied to him. And it was okay because later that night we held his party and the kids danced for two hours while enjoying cookies and soda. Poor, poor Kimhak though. He cut his foot early on and spent most the party sidelined. Yet the smile on his face never faded.

Rittri was the other darling of the group, and on this all the volunteers could agree. Again it was the smile that won us over. The thing was she mostly kept her mouth closed. It was because she was conscientious of the rotten gap between her two front teeth. Normally I wouldn't have cared. But when she laughed she sometimes flashed a cute smile. I absolutely had to have a photograph, and it took some time stalking her with my camera until I finally succeeded. The result was my best photo from Cambodia. Others may not think so, but a photo speaks to people in different ways, and for me the one of Rittri was quite special.

Strange as it was, I left the orphanage twice. The first time was to go south to see more of the country. Then I returned to Siem Reap weeks later to fly out, and stayed another night, this time leaving early in the morning when it was still dark out. The kids came out to give me hugs and I held them in turn telling them to work hard so that they will always have happiness in their lives. It was a sad moment to let go of the place, but I've seen so many adorable kids as a teacher that I am in a way desensitized. It's probably the same for the orphans, them too watching the volunteers change every few weeks. But writing this, I feel a certain pull at my heartstrings. I think back to the wonderful days we spent with one another, particularly the laughter shared in the shade of the mango trees, bright and green in the hot Cambodian sun.

Siem Reap Pub Street

Rittri and Sreyphi

Kimhak studies

Birthday party

Phnom Penh

Traveling by night bus made my trip from Siem Reap to the capital city a seemingly short one. After I'd arrived at the bus stop in Phnom Penh, a half hour later I stood in the lobby of a hostel, and not too long after that I had my bag packed into a locker. It was so easy to transition from one place to the next. So without missing a beat I went to see the sights, first visiting the royal palace. It's home to Sihamoni, the King of Cambodia. Before the man spent most his life in Europe where he took to teaching dance and other artistic pursuits. Then, when his father became to old to fulfill the duties required of a regent, Sihamoni was called upon to take the throne. The position was not an enviable one. The King of Cambodia serves merely as a figurehead, a man overshadowed by the prime minister who has been in power for 28 years and is a dictator in every way but name. This person, Hun Sen, is not liked by the Cambodian people--and for good reason. As prime minister he has accumulated great wealth selling off many of the country's assets to foreigners, and if that weren't bad enough he supposedly has strong ties to Vietnam, Cambodia's historic enemy.

Phnom Penh is also home to the S-21 Prison and Cheung Ek Killing Fields. They stand as vivid reminders of a horrific genocide which resulted in the death of 1.7 million Cambodian people. So seeing these places in person had a strong impact. Perhaps the most difficult part to stomach was the photos on display in the prison. The Khmer Rogue had taken them before torturing the prisoners into confessing to false charges. 20,000 in total met this fate, and it was sickening to see the proof glaring at me from the displays, countless faces frozen in time, fear and confusion in their eyes. Yet in a few of the photos the prisoners appeared to be smiling. Perhaps they had no idea that death was around the corner. Or it could be they'd had that eerie calmness which overcomes a person once all hope is gone.

Next was my trip to the Killing Fields that same day. This too was difficult to come to terms with. People died yes, but learning how it had happened, well, it left a heavy pang in my chest. The Khmer Rouge did not dispatch their victims cleanly. Bullets were too expensive to waste, so they instead used farming tools--axes, hoes, knives, clubs, bamboo spears--and as was so vividly described at the Killing Fields, the executioners sometimes even cut throats with the serrated edges of the branches found on palm trees. The men in charge would bring their victims outside the city to kill and bury them in darkness. To keep everyone calm they lied, telling the captives they were being relocated, and as the trucks arrived, loudspeakers played propaganda music to cover up the screams of those already dying. In this manner, the Khmer Rouge spared no one--not even infants--for as Pol Pot had once said, it was necessary to "kill the roots" to rid oneself of a problem. The executioners thus swung babies by their legs, smashing their heads against the trunk of a killing tree and then dumped their bodies into a pit along with the rest of the dead. A memorial now stands nearby. Many of the victims uncovered remains fill it, a final resting place for their wayward souls.

King of Cambodia

Royal Palace

S-21 Prison

Barbed wire

Countless faces

In the memorial

Killing tree

Taking a reprieve from all the historical madness, I had the opportunity to see my aunt during the visit. She too was traveling around Southeast Asia and we arranged to have dinner before she left, but then ran into each other the day before at the royal palace. Gloria was with her husband Kent and I joined them, listening to their local guide as she described several aspects of Cambodia's heritage and culture. The next evening we had our dinner at a restaurant on the Mekong River. I enjoyed a cheeseburger and several beers while we talked at length about our travels. It seemed surreal that we were chatting in a place so far from San Diego. I seldom meet relatives at all since I've left the US, but it was of course a good thing. Seeing them again reminded me that I'm far from alone in the world.

Kent, Gloria and me

Grim Legacy

Traveling to Phnom Penh and learning about the Khmer Rouge regime gives a clear picture of the atrocities committed. But the audio tapes and displays don't really explain why it had happened. I mean, how could a government do such a thing? And to what possible advantage?

To uncover the reasons for the genocide, we must first take into account that Cambodia had been a country at war for years. It began when the Americans dragged them into their conflict in Vietnam. The constant bombardments and cross border skirmishes plunged the country into chaos, a situation which allowed for separate factions to claim regions. It was not long until they fought one another, setting the stage for a bloody civil war. One such faction was the Khmer Rouge. After the faction emerged victorious remnants of their former enemies still existed on all sides. For Pol Pot they posed a serious threat. In fact, anyone not of the Khmer ethnicity were a danger in his eyes. This included the Vietnamese, Chinese and Cham minority groups. The man was also paranoid about foreign groups like the CIA and KGB operating in his country. So he sought them all out. And as he'd once said, “better to kill an innocent man than to let a rebel escape.” In line with this belief Pol Pot had anyone suspected of being an enemy summarily executed. It set a precedent. Suspicion lead to killing which in turn lead to more suspicion and more killing. At the same time the Khmer Rouge had a larger agenda. More than simply striving to stay in power, they wanted to transform the country into a self reliant agricultural state, something akin to the Khmer Empire of old. This would be Pol Pot's greatest failing.

The devil himself

Today, most people in Cambodia never experienced the genocide. And for those that were alive at the time, they really had no idea what the government was up to. But the people did whatever they could to not upset the new order. The members of the Khmer Rouge were no exception. Most the low level soldiers killed for fear of being killed. Then, after the regime fell, the Khmer Rouge leaders accused them of misinterpreting orders and abusing their authority, a story Pol Pot stood by until his death. As for those higher ups still living, they haven't changed their position--save one. The head of the S-21 prison accepted full responsibility for his actions and asked for forgiveness from the families of the victims. He was given 19 years in prison.

At any rate the Khmer Rouge leaders knew exactly what was happening. Perhaps it had not been their original intention, but to create their agricultural state the Khmer Rouge needed to eliminate a new enemy--city dwellers. The majority of the country's intellectuals were among this group, and because Pol Pot's plan was flawed, any educated person would have known it would fail. For one, Pol Pot wanted people in the cities to become farmers, an area in which they had no experience. He also shut down schools and hospitals, abandoned several industries on which the economy had been reliant, and drove out foreigners. Agriculturists, economists, and sociologists must have spoken out in protest. But rather than heed their advice, the self-assured Pol Pot saw them as enemies who would stand in his way. So the intellectuals and anyone suspected of being one were executed same as the rest, and in this climate of fear, people deflected suspicion by denouncing others. The cycle of death thus spun and spun until the entire country was red with blood.

Yet contrary to common belief, two thirds of the people who died during the genocide were not murdered outright. So how then did they die? Well, from the very beginning Pol Pot's plan for agricultural reform caused food production to drop. To compensate, the regime decreased ration sizes, forcing expendable city dwellers to farm over 10 hours a day on only 250 - 500g of rice. They died by the hundreds of thousands from overwork. Others died of malnutrition, or they starved from the subsequent famines. And then, because the Khmer Rouge had already killed most the doctors, the country was left without anyone qualified to treat the sick, this after they'd closed the country's borders effectively cutting off all medicine and aid from the outside world. In the span of four years, one fourth of Cambodia's population died as a consequence.

I'll be honest. This story has no happy ending. In 1978, after Pol Pot antagonized them with bold talk and border raids, the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia. With the loss of Phnom Penh, the Khmer Rouge's power quickly faded, and a pro Vietnamese government emerged in their place. Pol Pot, who had escaped, was never brought to justice. Nor were any of his cronies. At least not those who denied their involvement in the genocide. For years the Khmer Rouge carried on in exile as the official government of Cambodia.They were recognized in turn by America, China and the UN. And later on, after the world wised up to their evil ways, justice still did not prevail. The last of the Khmer Rouge will live out their final years in relative peace while their persecution is tied up in red tape. Such is the ugliness of the world.

Leaving the cities

Khmer Rouge flag

Kampot

Cambodia is not a big country. It is roughly the size of Missouri and has about 16 million people. The capital of Phnom Penh is in the south, and a bit further down is Kampot. Travelers frequent the area because of its laid back atmosphere, scenic mountains, and high quality marijuana. Be that as it may, I was originally going to skip the place, but then decided to go after others recommended a visit. And so it was that I ended up at a hostel on the town's river. By nighttime the place was full with backpackers. They lounged on the river deck smoking and drinking while exchanging stories. Talk of travel is often the topic of conversation at hostels, where without fail you hear about another better destination still out there. It becomes a game of oneupmanship--travel this, and travel that--and can be quite tiresome. But in Kampot the backpackers were nice enough people and I had fun getting to know them.

Anyhow, there were plenty of mountains in the area, and on the tallest was a kind of resort area. It is considerably cooler at the higher altitude, and French entrepreneurs took notice, setting up a hotel and casino overlooking the sea below. But when the Khmer Rouge came to power, the French fled, abandoning their mountaintop paradise. 38 years later the buildings still remain and are a kind of tourist attraction. There is also a new casino not too far away. We formed a group at the hostel and rode up by rental scooters. It soon became apparent that the weather was not favorable. As we climbed in altitude it went from sunny to foggy and cold, and the change in climate made us feel that we were no longer in Cambodia. Even the vegetation was different from what we'd encountered elsewhere in the country. But it was a good to see something new while enjoying a pleasant cruise through the countryside.

Since riding a motorbike was the thing to do in Kampot we spent another day traveling to the coast. In nearby Kep, a large fish market offered crabs, stingray, squid and other grilled seafood. I opted for the chicken. The price was two and a half for a leg with rice, but I talked the woman down to two dollars. Then I took the money from my wallet, but the vendor only wanted 2,000 riels worth of cash, the equivalent of 50 cents. Had I realized sooner she was referring to riels from the start I wouldn't have haggled over the price. The problem is Cambodia uses a dual currency system, with both dollars and riels accepted everywhere, and it can become confusing at times. Anyway, after eating we left the market to swim in the ocean and visit a butterfly farm. Then we followed a dirt road to an abandoned bungalow resort. Such a pity the place had gone out of business. I couldn't help but to think someone's hopes and livelihood had crumbled away with the buildings.

At the hostel bar

Scooters

Abandoned casino

Kep market

Butterfly farm

First church

Lost bungalows

Young Blood

People like to travel overseas. But some people do it more than others. For example, I kept meeting Germans all over Southeast Asia. As the most populous country in Europe, it made sense that they outnumbered the English, French or Swedish people I met. But the ratio was inordinate. There seemed to be two Germans for every other European I came across. And what really got to me was how young these travelers often were--I'm talking 18 and 19 year-olds. To them going abroad was the thing to do after high school. They'd work a few months, save money, and then take a plane across the world to become a backpacker.

In America you'd be hard pressed to find adventurous teenagers of this type. It's just not in our blood to do something like that at an early age. In fact, proportionately speaking, not that many Americans go overseas. Perhaps it's because the thought of visiting another country can be intimidating. It is also difficult to get enough time off from work to warrant a long flight to and from a distant location. Better to stay in the States and check out the many domestic tourist spots. And for those who have a lot of time on their hands-- recent university graduates for example--its not easy either. Most end up neck deep in student loans, so spending money to travel is the last thing on their minds. But the Germans don't have to worry about these problems. They get six weeks paid vacation a year, the nearest neighboring country is only a few hours away by bus, and the government pays university tuition costs. It is as if their country is structured to make travel easier. 

Well, as I wrote earlier, I encountered a lot of Germans. The two at the hostel in Kampot came from Stuttgart, and both were 19. By the time we met, they'd already gone to Myanmar, Thailand and Laos. Next up on their agenda was India, so they were definitely getting around. This in itself was surprising. But what astounded me most was what capable travelers they were. They could figure out things fast, get the best prices and maximize the use of their time in each place. So I simply tagged along, letting them plan everything. And as we spent more and more time together, I came to respect their knowledge, insight and maturity. By comparison I was an idiot at 19, yet these guys seemed so worldly and upbeat about everything. And it was not only them. In general, the Germans who travel are easy to get along with and make for interesting companions. They also speak highly of their country, and while I never had much interest in visiting before, I'd now really like to see Germany one day. If I do go, I've already met several locals who have offered to take me into their home and show me around.

Jakob and Constantine

Koh Rong

No visit to a Southeast Asian country is complete without an island getaway. Even landlocked Laos has the Mekong River with its Four Thousand Islands. And lets not forget Cambodia. There are plenty of islands right off its southern coast. A two hour ferry ride, for example, takes passengers from the town of Sihanoukville to Koh Rong. That was the one island I had time to visit. I arrived with the two Germans, Jakob and Constantine. The first thing we did was find a hostel. There were plenty of them along the beachfront and each had a bar staffed by young foreigners. As I'd later learn, the employees were volunteers who worked in exchange for room, board and alcohol.

What I found fascinating about Koh Rong was its recent entry into the realm of mass tourism. Until two years ago it had been home to a few fishing villages with the occasional backpacker coming to see the beach and nature. But the number of arrivals were limited, at least until Southeast Asian Review listed the island as the #1 off-the-beaten-track location in Southeast Asia. That brought tourists over in full force and the island quickly came alive with all the amenities and accommodations needed to handle the increase in visitors. That said, Koh Rong wasn't too touristy for my disliking. There were plenty of locals and just walking along the beach a group invited us to play sunset soccer. After that we enjoyed cold beers and barbecue while seated on the sand in front of our hostel. Later we met others, went to a bar overlooking the village, drank more and danced. The beer was cheap and the music lively--my kind of place.

Beachfront

Still early

Drinking time

Sadly, the time I spent in in Koh Rong was cut short by circumstance. I needed to return to Siem Reap for my onward flight and had only a second night remaining. Together with the Germans, I left the village and trekked to Long Beach opposite the island. Living up to its name, Long Beach was a 5km stretch of white sand at the edge of the jungle. A resort on the far end, a guest house in the middle, and a bungalow villa at the start were the only signs of development. Most people simply used tents to camp on the sand. Before we set up our own in a quiet spot, our little group relaxed in the water. The sea was clear, aquamarine, and shallow, especially with the tide out. I spent most the afternoon sifting through the sand digging up seashells. My intention was to use them to decorate a sand castle I'd made. But then I thought I should take them back to Siem Reap for the kids at the orphanage.They'd never been to the beach, and when I went through with it, they were happy to receive them.

Night set in and we joined another group that had a bonfire going. They'd simply found branches in the jungle to use as firewood. A few bottles of liquor sat in the sand, the smell of pot mingled with that of the burning fire, and a bowl contained some leftover crabmeat. I declined to have a bite. Beer was all I needed to get me through the night. And it was time enough to bond beside the glowing flames. There was a guy from Britain, another from Senegal, an Argentine, two girls from Denmark, one sheila from Australia and so on. We talked and laughed, then went into the water to check out the phosphorescent plankton endemic to the area. Having grown up on the coast in San Diego, I'd seen such plankton before, but for the Germans it was a new experience. They acted like 5 year-olds visiting Toys'R'us for the first time, and I took great pleasure in watching them play with the points of bluish green light. It was the perfect end to another wonderful adventure in Southeast Asia. The only problem was I'd not used insect repellent after I came out of the water. Little blood sucking sandflies bit me on my arms and back, and a week later the bumps have still not gone away. In all my life I've never gotten it so bad.

beach dog

Beginning of Long Beach

Another great day

Bonding

Month Five

There you have it. Cambodia in a nutshell. The visit also marked my fourth month on the road. That's the longest I've travelled without actually living somewhere. And I'm not done yet. Currently, I'm in Malaysia and I'll be here until the beginning of May. I'lll write about it when the time comes. But one thing for now--I'm having a load of fun. Seriously. Not a dull day to be had in Malaysia.

Where to next sir?