En route to Siem Reap

En route to better sights and views
In search of culture, knowledge, truths
To learn of others is a must
So why does this bus ride, me disgust?

KEP, CAMBODIA to PHNOM PENH, CAMBODIA

July 29 - 30, 2008

Okay, I'm writing this on a bus and I wish the shakiness of my writing would carry over as a testament to:
(1) My dedication to blogging
(2) My understanding of the importance of transcribing my thoughts as real time as possible
(3) How crappy this bus is.

Peon 2, TH and I left Kep with Peon 1, Kunthy and Doc R to head to PP. I don't know if it's because I've done the trip a few times now or what, but the drive wasn't too bad. Granted, TH and I have the berst seats on the bus, righ behind the driver, but the usual annoyances didn't seem to bother me too much. The blaringly loud karaoke VCD was one I've already seen before, complete with Cambodian rap and ridiculous dancing; the sound of the horn blasting in lieu of turn signals, driving decorum and any semblance of order on the highways; and of course, the insane bumpiness of the ride, leaving one's sciatic over-stimulated and pulsing. It's like having a funny bone in your ass. Anywho.

My afternoon in PP was ridiculous. First stop was the used bookstore where I traded in some of Dad's old books for a couple new ones, plus a Lonely Planet Vietnam. While there, it started to rain -- monsoon, actually -- so we hid out in the store for about 45 minutes.

When we left, it was still raining lightly, but bedecked in ponchos, we pressed on toward Psar Thei market. About 10 minutes into the walk, we hit a river crossing. Or, more precisely, a road. The roads had flooded in areas of the city and the only way to get through was to wade.


And wade we did. Amid free-floating chunks of refuse, dirt and unidentifiable nastiness, we stepped in knee deep with the waves created from the wake of passing cars, motos, pedicabs and bikes lapping at our thighs.

Disgusting.

We eventually made it to Psar Themi where we split up. I was handkering for fried rice flour filled with chives or some other market goodness, unfortunately, everything was closed. Boo.

WHen I headed back, some of the flooded streets had already drained though most had not. There was a point when I was walking on the flooded road on my left and a fence on my right, on what I can only guess was a patchwork sidewalk. I don't know; the water was up to mid calf. But each time a car drove by, the wake would slap my left leg, further adding to the uncleanliness of my thigh, then, since according tose damned laws of physics, would reflect off the fence and, like a malicious vigilante blitkrieg of vluid, proceed to thwack my right thigh.

Injury, meet insult.

Anyways, I eventually made it back to the Okay Gust house and proceeded to wash myself, after VOIPing TD to fix my freaking bank account. Boo, expensive call.

Dinner was a complete turnaround, however. Peon 2, TH, Kunthy, Doc $ and I went to Romdeng, an NGO which trains street kids the art of hospitality. It was quite a nice place. I've been to a lot of fancy restaurants in my consulting days, but I have never before seen a restaurant with a swimming pool in it. Full size. Serious. Cool.


The food was excellent. I had a banana flower salad with Cambodian bacon and caramelized bananas wrapped in rice flour and turmeric wraps with coconut ice cream and palm sugar syrup for dessert. Mmm...


Wednesday was a huge rush. I had visited a travel agent the previous day to check on flights from Luang Prabang to Hanoi, so we had to get up early to book tickets before getting on our bus to Siem Reap. The agent didn't tell us our tickets were paper tickets and had to be issued by the airline -- but we were 30 mins away from our guesthouse and had 45 mins until we had to get to our bus. I turned all "Queen Biatch" on him and told him to make them rush and that I wanted my tickets in my hands in 15 minutes. He got all intimidated, but it worked because he kept calling the messenger to make him hurry. I got on the bus just fine.

The bus ride was hellish though. The guy in front of us smelled really bad and because of a huge traffic jam, it took us 6 hours. The moment that made it all worth it though was when we made a pit stop at the most disgustingly ungygenic restaurants I have ever seen in my life (with 2 months in rural Cambodia under my belt). I was women selling basket full of tarantulas and grasshoppers to eat. The looked creepy and some were still moving. I don't speak for everyone, but I generally like my food good and dead when I eat it. Apparently this all stems from the Khmer Rouge days when people were starving. I'm trying to work up the courage to eat one.


We did finally get to Siem Reap, and upon arriving were accosted by a horde of ravenous tuk tuk drivers. They kept grabbing my arm and we kept yelling. It was horrible: they were opening the bus windows and wouldn't let us off the bus. Ridonk. One thing I've noticed about Cambodia is the size of the average physical space bubble is quite smal in comparison to our North American ones. And so the grabbing. After a lot of pushing and yelling, we picked a guy who was much quieter and he drove us to our guesthouse.

On a side note, our guesthouse had a crocodile farm in the back. I thought it was supposed to be kitchy, but no, it was a serious farm for raising crocodiles, and they were huge. Ridonk^2.

Dinner was a CIH reunion with Banana and we also had a chance to meet his gf. TH and I speculated on what she'd be like -- and it was pretty spot on. I like TH's assessment of her after the fact, best: "She seems like she'd fit in the with Great White on the Upper Right" referring top the band of white people who sit in a specified spot in our class and make a lot of noise all the time. Anyways.

We parted ways after dinner and Kmer Kitchen (where Mick Jagger has eaten in the past) and made plan to head out at 5 am the next morning to catch the sunrise over Angkor Wat.