Summer, finally. After a year that
seemed like an eon, the weather turned hot, the students disappeared,
the campus was quiet, final grades were entered into the system, and
before we knew it Anna and I were trying to figure out how we were
going to get all of our stuff from our rental house to the storage
unit in a single car trip. We breathed an overwhelming sigh of relief
as we coasted out of Southampton, leaving behind the stress of grades
and outcomes and incessant screeching Mandarin and frivolous meetings
– all of which, in retrospect, seem so trivial.
Although Anna and I had two weddings,
we never took a honeymoon. After both weddings it was either time or
money that prevented us from doing so, but now that we had both we
could plan an adventure together. Of course, it would have to be a
mix of both travel and vacation in an exotic locale; no tropical
Bahamian beaches, but someplace faraway from everyone and everything,
someplace where we would see very few travelers like ourselves and
that is completely different from anyplace we had been prior. After
weeks of spinning the globe and debating, we finally settled on a
destination; Cambodia.
If you are reading this, you are
probably thinking, “Who the hell goes to Cambodia on their
honeymoon?” To most, Cambodia likely brings to mind unsavory images
– landmines, poverty, genocide. But Anna and I have always loved
traveling, especially to those places that are fairly off the beaten
path (one of the reasons we went to Georgia in 2011). However once we
began researching it as a travel destination, the more appealing it
became. There were friendly people, thick jungles, tropical beaches,
exotic foods, and beautiful temples. Our mind was made up though
after talking to a colleague who had spent two years in Cambodia with
the Peace Corps; despite its history it was a wonderful place with
wonderful people, she said over dinner one night. By March our minds
were made up, and after a few days in Italy at the end of June we
were on a flight to Bangkok.
กรุงเทพมหานคร
Bangkok was an ideal hub to fly into to
begin our trip. Not only was it cheap to fly to Bangkok, an old
colleague and friend from Istanbul, Martyn, now works with the
British Council there and he generously opened his home to us. It was
wonderful to see Martyn again, and we spent a couple days visiting
the major tourist sites of Bangkok with him. Martyn took particular
pleasure in this, as he had never taken a river cruise on the Chao
Phraya or visited Wat Pho or Wat Arun due to the fact that he was
constantly working (and hence when he had time off, he preferred to
sleep than schlep it around Bangkok, something with which I can most
definitely sympathize).
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| Wat Arun. |
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| Reclining Buddha of Wat Pho. |
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| Religious Market. |
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| There's something you don't see everyday. |
In the evenings, we went to Kho San Road to
eat, indulge in a “fish spa”, and generally take in the craziness
that is Kho San. It was a good way to wind down from a day of
sightseeing and hoofing it through sweaty Bangkok all day, and after
dinner we took a taxi back to Rangnam Soi and had a beer (with ice,
of course – this is Thailand, after all) at the Skyline Jazz
Bar, an awesome rooftop bar right with great music right
across from the Skytrain at Victory Monument.
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| Obviously Martyn didn't enjoy the fish spa as much as I did. |
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| Yes, that is a grasshopper. And it was delicious. |
After a few days in Bangkok, we took
the train to the airport to catch a flight to Siem Reap in Cambodia.
The night before Martyn had told us how fiercely patriotic Thais are,
and this was confirmed as we arrived at the airport. At exactly 8 AM,
the Thai national anthem began to play over loudspeakers.
Immediately, everyone froze where they were out of respect for
the anthem – it was as if they had switched off, or turned to
zombies at that instant. Of course, out of fear of disrespect we
froze too, and after a minute it ended and everyone went about their
business as if nothing had happened.
ក្រុងសៀមរាប
The flight to Siem Reap was pleasant.
The Angkor Air prop-driven plane was small yet uncramped, the weather
was clear and beautiful, and the in-flight sandwiches were obviously
homemade and cut and wrapped with loving care. After an hour, we were
cruising towards our hotel in a taxi.
Coming from Bangkok, Cambodia was
markedly different from its neighbor to the north. Traffic was
chaotic and nearly unregulated, yet there was a tranquil flow to it.
Bicycles and scooters and cars and buses and tuk-tuks cut in front of
one another and ignored traffic signals and passed each other with no
regard for oncoming traffic, yet there was something graceful about
it, like a well-practiced dance. It was chaos, but everyone respected
the chaos and went with the flow.
Cambodia was also noticeably poorer and
more polluted than Thailand – trash was not ubiquitous, but there
was a fair amount of rubbish in most places, obviously a result of a
lack of proper disposal services. Much of the land in Cambodia is
composed of red soil, so a red film of dirt also covers everything
and contributes to the sense of “dirtiness”. However Siem Reap
was an orderly city and had a nice center with an old market and a
variety of restaurants ready to cater to the tastes of all tourists.
This was, after all, the home of Angkor Wat.
Despite the dustiness, heat, and
ruthless insects in Siem Reap, we found it pleasant. The day after
arriving we hired a tuk-tuk driver – Mr. Sak – for the day to
take us around the temples of Angkor. The weather that day was clear
and beautiful, but without a breeze the heat was merciless. We tore
through a gallon of water in two hours, and even though Mr. Sak
dropped us off at a tremendously overpriced and touristy restaurant
fro lunch, we were tickled to sit under the icy breath of an air
conditioner.
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| Angkor Wat. |
The temples of Angkor are beautiful
indeed. Angkor Wat, the most famous temple, is massive – and was
also overloaded with tourists despite us visiting in the rainy (low)
season. We found Angkor Thom with its many-headed temple of Bayan to
be more laid-back, beautiful, and fun, as you were able to climb on
the ruins and explore more of the nooks and crannies of the ruins. At
Ta Prahm, the temple choked by trees, we got caught in a rain storm
and took shelter in the ruins and played with two young Cambodian
girls as we waited for the storm to pass.
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| Bayon. |
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| The shade was no relief from the heat. |
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| Ta Prohm. |
The most overwhelming thing about the
temples of Angkor is the size of it. Not the size of the temples, as
there are many at Angkor, but the area over which the ancient temples
and palaces themselves are spread. It is kilometers between temple
complexes, and we were happy to have Mr. Sak driving us around.
Seeing that some tourists temple-hopping by bicycle left us
dumbfounded – why the hell would you see Angkor by bicycle,
especially on a day as hot as today (it must have been at least 100
F)? Thus, the sheer size of Angkor conveys great respect for those
who built it and the great civilization that once flourished there at
a time when Europe was still healing illness with bloodletting.
Unfortunately, many of the temples have been looted and their Buddhas
desecrated, but the complexes are still overwhelming and
awe-inspiring.
Our guidebook suggested spending at
least two to three days
exploring Angkor (and in retrospect, this seems like a bit too much,
unless you are a temple fanatic). However, by 2 PM we were exhausted
and completely run down by the heat, and boredom ensued quickly. The
temples became one hot rock pile after another, all with the same
hawkers selling the same things: Hellooooo lay-dee....you
want something cold drink? Coconuuut? Pineapple? T-Shirt? You come my
shooop? Out of politeness we
continued to let Mr. Sak take us where he thought was best, but come
3 I had to put my foot down: Please just take us to Preah Khan and
then take us home? It had begun to rain heavily by then, so it was
even more of an excuse to get back to the hotel. Luckily our hotel
had a pool, a perfect way to wash away the grime and sweat of the
day, and that afternoon that pool was all I could think about.
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| Can we go back to the hotel now? |
Dropping
us off, Mr. Sak asked if we would like to see some traditional
Cambodian apsara
dancing over dinner. It was only $12, so we agreed, because we had
wanted to see the dancing but could find many places offering it, as
it was the low season. He picked us up at 8 and brought us to a
gigantic dining hall. At the front was a great stage and at the back,
an epic buffet with Thai, Western, Khmer, Chinese, and Japanese
dishes. The dining hall looked like it held about 600 people, and
much to my chagrin, most of our fellow diners this evening were
Chinese tourists.
Of course, after a
year of teaching soulless rotten Chinese children, the last thing I
wanted to do was eat dinner with 500 Chinese tourists. Throughout the
past year I had been patiently tolerating them, but this dinner was
the nail in the coffin for me. They made a mess of the buffet area as
they gorged themselves, and when the dancing began, dozens rushed to
the front of the room to record the spectacle on their various
i-devices. This enraged me, because as we were sitting near the front
this crowd of rude, ugly gawkers was blocking my view. More than once
I cast etiquette aside and got up, seized one on the shoulder and
said, “Sit down! Get out of the way!” Most, however, continued to
stuff their face at their table, spewing food as they conversed
loudly with each other in screeching Mandarin. Indeed they were so
loud throughout the performance that it was difficult to concentrate
on the dancing, let alone hear the music. Even before the show was
over, most Chinese got up and left, their tables messy with
chopsticks and spilled beer and hunks of chewed food. I felt sorry
for the dancers. Sure, it was probably a job for them, but to have to
get up and dance every night in front of cackling, gluttonous
tourists who paid no attention to something that was a part of your
national heritage must be demeaning. The worst part was that after
the dance was over the dancers had to stand on stage as still as
statues while idiot Chinese tourists came up to snap photos with them
while giving the peace sign.
After the dinner, I
felt sorry for having come. I had wanted to see the dancing, but
there was something wrong with eating at a buffet dinner in a country
where a quarter of the people were starving. On our way out, there
was a traditional Khmer boat completely filled with an elaborate
display of carved tropical fruit – enough fruit to feed four
families for a week. Remembering the limbless beggars and relentless
child hawkers and women desperate for us to buy something from their
shop, Anna and I felt a tremendous sense of guilt because in the end,
we knew what would happen to all that fruit.
