So, the bus journey to Siam Reap was surprisingly smooth sailing. I sat next to a friendly Israeli girl, read the first few chapters of my book on the Cambodian genocide by Luong Ung, First They Killed My Father, and fell asleep around 10pm. Although the bus was pretty cramped quarters, too strongly air-conditioned and my seat didn’t lean back all the way, I opened my eyes and it was time to get off the bus. (Love when that happens!) After waiting around a coffee shop for an hour (gotta love Thai time when it’s normal for things to run an hour late—it’s nothing compared to Fiji time! :)), a van picked up me and 6 other travelers. Three young guys were completely obnoxious Brits who passed out right away because they’d stayed up all night partying, so I didn’t speak to anyone at first and fell asleep till our 11am break.
For the rest of the journey to the border, I dug my nose in my book, enjoying how it’s okay to occasionally be antisocial as a solo-traveler. I had heard some stories about the Cambodian genocide, but seeing as it only happened 35 years ago, I really didn’t think it was appropriate to enter the country without being well-informed on the subject. We got to the border at around 2pm, where we were asked to fill out visa paperwork and pay a $30 fee, so I finally decided to make conversation with the three non-hung-over passengers. Sebastian was from Chile, so I spoke to him in Spanish first, and then chatted with the two young sisters he’d bonded with earlier in the van, Rachael and Robin from London. After several drawn-out speeches from our bus-driver, we realized that the border-crossing would be somewhat lengthy, and potentially scam-ridden. Although we’d already paid about 30 bucks to go all the way to Siam Reap, they told us that the bus from the border would take 5 hours, whereas a taxi would take two hours. So we decided to pay an extra $10 and become a foursome for a taxi… and that was just the beginning of all the scams we experienced for a mere 3 days in Cambodia.People who know me will confirm that I hate to speak negatively or talk down on people, and I always try to see the beauty in everyone. So it’s challenging for me to write about how difficult my experiences with Cambodians were, just like it was challenging for me to accept it at the time. I’m 100% sure that if I’d gone as a volunteer with an organization, or had a local contact who could introduce me to folks outside of the tourist sector, my experience would have been completely different. And I also completely acknowledge that given the country’s devastating history, social structure and economy, it makes perfect sense that the tourist industry would provide the only means of eking out a living for many, so they would do whatever they can to get our dollars (and I mean dollars—the Riel is worth very little, so even ATM machines spit out US dollars). After all, from 1975-1979—through execution, starvation, disease, and forced labor—the Khmer Rouge systematically killed an estimated two million Cambodians, almost a fourth of the country’s population. So I understand why they try to get as much as they can from tourists, and view us as dollar signs instead of people. But despite my compassion for Cambodia’s situation, the constant begging, negotiating, and arguing for more money was still really depressing.
As it was, I was lucky to be with Sebastian, Rachael and Robin, because we looked after each other and together were able to avoid all the scams thrown our way, especially compared to the terrible stories I heard from other travelers later on. I heard one story of a child literally kneeling down and bowing over and over to an American in public, as though he were praying to Mecca, until the tourist felt so bad that he gave him a few dollars just to leave. And my amazing hippie friend from Santa Fe, Lisa, who I met on the bus back to Bangkok, told me that she had originally planned to stay for several weeks or even months in Cambodia, but changed her mind after just a few days in Siam Reap. Lisa has been traveling for over 3 years with just a backpack, so she never buys souvenirs just because she couldn’t carry the extra weight. A little girl shouted, “You bad tourist! You buy nothing! I want you to leave my country!” So Lisa calmly looked at her in her zen-like way, and nodded. “Okay. I will.”
Our scamming experiences started mildly enough. Our taxi stopped at a roadside stand to “wash the car,” even though no one washed it, and we were made to wait for a half hour around snacks that were priced at four times more than what we paid in Thailand, until we continued on. Then they told us that the hostel I wanted to see in my guide book wasn’t good, and stopped at a different hostel and forcefully told us how good it was until we just decided to stay. I shared a $10 room with Sebastian, and the girls stayed across from us, so it seemed fine. We then took a tuk-tuk to see Ankgor Wat at sunset, which was really beautiful; we walked around and took pictures for around two hours, and Sebastian and I talked about how spiritual the place felt despite being a religion we weren’t familiar with. That night the four of us went out to dinner, and after getting to know each other we realized we all have silly, sarcastic senses of humor. It was a really fun night!
The next day, we woke up at the ungodly hour of 5am to leave for a 6am sunrise. I unfortunately realized at the entrance to the park that I’d left my 3-day ticket purchased the previous day at the hostel, and the tuk-tuk driver was so mad that he yelled at me practically the whole way home. Sebastian was cool about it, and we covertly talked about it in Spanish so the driver wouldn’t get even more upset. When we finally got into the site, the whole day at Ankgor Wat was really beautiful, walking around the ancient temples and taking hundreds of pictures. I was taken right back to my art history days, admiring the bas reliefs that reminded me of a mixture of Egyptian hieroglyphics and 12-13th century European battle scene paintings, where an army is depicted by showing a horse with 8 pairs of legs drawn behind him. Exhausted at around 10am, we began to get really silly, taking pictures in risqué poses despite the shocked Asian tourists around us. We finally got lunch at 12 noon, and then visited the “jungle” temple, which is the site of the Angelina Jolie’s Tomb Raider movie. (By the way, I understand now why she adopted a Cambodian baby, considering all the poverty she must have similarly been faced with while filming the movie!) With immense, twisting trees growing through and seemingly one with the rocks, it was by far my favorite temple that I saw. I took tons of pictures, but was ready to leave by 2pm because the sun was so intense.
Back at the hostel, my tuk-tuk driver asked me if I wanted him to drive me the following day, since Sebastian, Rachael and Robin were leaving and I wanted to visit more temples. He quoted me the same price of $20, and since I’d read in my guide book that I could take a moto (motorcycle) for $10, and he hadn’t been nice that morning, I said that I would go with someone else. His whole demeanor again changed, like it had that morning, and he began to straight-up yell at me. “You no give me job, even though I nice and take you back this morning! It not my fault—it your fault! You have no heart!” All I could do was stand up and walk away. 10 minutes later, another young man came up to me where I was checking my internet, and said he’d drive me on his motorcycle for $10. He said his name was Noi like “noise,” and he had a round friendly face, so I said sure, hoping that I wouldn’t be disappointed with him like I had with the other driver.Then, the hotel staff turned on us. Sebastian and I were in our room with the A/C on because the previous night with just the fan had been too hot and uncomfortable. Sebastian was trying to sleep and I was quietly sobbing while reading a chapter in which a young girl in the main character’s work camp is raped by the soldiers, when we got a loud knock on the door. All of a sudden the hostel staff barged in, and yelled at us that we owed them $5 for the A/C. Sebastian had literally just paid the previous receptionist, so he slowly explained it to them. They argued with him for about 10 minutes! Then they left to check their records, and 15 minutes later they came back to argue with him again! I couldn’t believe that this went on over the span of an hour, them coming and going probably four different times. When they finally left for good, Sebastian started saying how he didn’t like Cambodians, and I lectured him about how you can’t make sweeping generalizations about a whole group of people, based on just a few days in a tourist capitol. But I was still really disappointed that enough minor scams had happened that Sebastian had decided that he never wanted to come back.
Since it was our last night together, Rachael, Sebastian and I went out dancing that night, while Robin stayed home because she felt sick. Again we took tons of funny pictures, and promised to all show up on Sebastian’s doorstep in Santiago in a few months. I really hope I get to see them all again, since they were incredibly fun, funny people!The next morning I jumped on the back of Noi’s moto at 9am, and we cruised around the different temples near the back of the park. It was pretty much the same types of temples I’d seen the previous day, and I probably should have paid for a guide to properly understand the historical and architectural significance of everything. But, I enjoyed the time to myself, and intermittently wrote in my journal and read throughout the day when I wasn’t being chased by children asking for dollars. In the afternoon I skipped lunch because my book was describing how the main character’s older sister died of dysentery in a work camp, and returned to my hostel at 2pm to just finish the last 50 pages. All in all it was beautifully written and I’m glad that I read it, especially because I now want to learn more about what I can do to help out the people in Cambodia. I’m considering talking to my colleagues who work on family planning issues there if they need any support, but if anyone reading this has any other ideas, please let me know!
The next morning before being picked up for my final half-day moto bike to the temples was when I finally lost it, and to be honest that was the day that I’ve felt the most unsafe during my whole trip. I was briefly checking my internet when the receptionist told me that I owed them an extra $5 for A/C. I told him that I’d already paid for it in the price they’d quoted me the previous day, and he again said no, that I owed them an extra $5. Instead of argue, I smiled and flat-out said I wouldn’t pay it. Then he sicked the hotel manager on me, a small shouting woman! “You pay me my money! You use A/C, you pay me my money or else!” Noi showed up, so I got up to leave with him. But by this point, I was so upset I couldn’t hold it in. I looked at the receptionist with tears in my eyes, and with a cracked voice said “why do you treat tourists this way? People won’t want to come back when you treat them this way. By doing this you’re hurting your economy, and your country.” He shrugged with a half smile. Not sure that he understood me, all I could do was wipe my tears and leave with Noi.
On the moto, we cruised at probably 40 miles per hour down for 20 minutes to the distant temples, and all these images flashed through my head. I pictured the hostel staff breaking into my room to steal my stuff and make up for the measly $5 that I refused to pay on principle. I pictured Noi’s bike hitting a rut in the road the wrong way, and my helmetless-head hitting the pavement. And it was the weirdest sensation, because I loved the speed and strength and excitement of the bike, but I realized how valuable my head is, like precious cargo. I have so much invested in my head in the way of education, dreams and ambitions, and it would be such a tragic waste to lose someone like me on this earth, who really wants to make it a better place. So when we stopped the bike, I told Noi to go slower next time, and to call the hostel and tell them I’ll pay the extra $5, no problem.
Back at the hostel, Noi dropped me off and acted really upset that I only gave him a $5 tip, so I lost faith in the one person who I thought had been friendly to me. The receptionist was happy to get the matter resolved, and he told me that I’m a nice person. I said, “well you’re the nicest person I’ve met here, so thank you.” He smiled, and asked to go to my room with me. I thought it was to fix the A/C or something, but instead he pointed to the laundry I’d just paid for the hotel to wash. “That shirt you have—I like it. Can I have?” I looked at him and frowned, having lost faith in yet another person who I thought had been friendly. “No, I’m sorry.”
All in all, I spent around $300 for 3 days in Cambodia, which makes it the most expensive country per-day that I’ve visited. I hope I didn’t paint too bleak of a picture for people to want to visit; I hope to go back some day if I’m ever working in Southeast Asia for an NGO, and would consider working there since the problems are so dire. However, I wouldn’t recommend going as a tourist without a plan.
In the van back to Bangkok that afternoon, I met Lisa from Santa Fe, an amazing woman who at age 43 has been traveling the world for over 3 years. We realized that we’re both Aries signs, we were both in Santa Fe at the same time last May, we would have been at Burning Man together had I gone as planned in August, and we have tattoos on our ankles of the earth within a circular shape—hers within a sun and mine within a flower—so we totally bonded as “soul sistahs.” :) When we caught an actual bus at the border, we bonded with a good-looking 26-year-old Spanish guy named Merc, and the three of us ended up sharing a hostel near Khao San Road. The next day was my last day in Bangkok since my flight left at midnight, and Lisa spoiled me with kindness. She told the hostel staff I was her daughter so that I could keep my backpack in her room and lounge with her by the pool. We talked about love and relationships a ton, and she told me a great quote to remember her by: “People say you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince. But I say that just makes you acquire a taste for frogs!” :) Then she took me shopping for the last items I wanted to buy, treated me to dinner and a drink with her other sweet friend Copper who happened to be in town, and gave me a dress as a gift because she said it looked better on me than on her. She even helped me buy my shuttle ticket to the airport and helped me carry my backpack to catch it in the right place. She was so wonderful, and I really hope I get to meet her again some day—and it wouldn’t be bad to meet her son either, who’s incredibly cute from the photo she showed me, haha. :)So, that’s it for my adventure with cool fellow-travelers and not-so-cool Cambodians. I really miss Southeast Asia, especially the food and easy transit to beautiful places, but I’m sure that I’ll return—hopefully sooner than later!
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