12-24
We have been in Phnom Penh for the last three days: a bustling, dusty metropolis sprawled on the banks of the Tonle Sap and Mekong rivers. It has both broad boulevards and narrow choked alleys. We spent our first day visiting the palace and a wonderful National Museum. At night the parks fill with people, picnicking, necking, playing ball and gossiping – all glad to be out of their small living spaces. We dined at the famous Foreign Correspondents Club with our house hostess, Anne, who later drove us around town showing off the USA Embassy holiday lights under the full moon.
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Another day we joined the Hash House Harriers run/walk. We first learned about this international group while in Bangkok. The Hashers were started by a number of Englishmen in 1985 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. We all met up at the train station, hopped into a large open bed truck, shoulder to shoulder, for an eleven kilometer ride into the country, ending in an open field. Directions from our Hare: runners off in one direction, walkers in another. Down a dusty road skirting a nearly dry river we marched. Santa hats at jaunty angles and bells a-jingle with each step. We came from all parts of the globe: England, Germany, Aussie land, South Africa, east Asia, USA, France, Holland, and the middle east. Back at the truck after slopping through muddy rice paddies we quaffed down beers, sang songs, toasted and thanked all concerned. Later we went to dinner with our new found friends at Talk with a Stranger restaurant.
Yesterday we hired Mr. Paul, a Tuk Tuk driver for the day ($15US) to take us on tour. First to the Choeung EK Memorial (the Killing Fields). In a very quiet rural area stands the memorial tower, three to four stories high filled with tier upon tier of shelves piled with human skulls: babies to old people, thousands shot, axed, bludgeoned and chopped to death by the Khmer Rouge. Around the grounds are hollows and holes: mass graves still with piles of bones and clothes. This was a very difficult experience for both of us: tears and anger at man’s inhumanity to man. Estimates range from 800,000 to three million killed in the four years of the Khmer rage. Darfur continue on today, Rwanda, yesterday. How sad we are as humans.
Next is Toul Seng Genocide Museum , the former Khmer Rouge S-21 prison where 17,000 people were processed and less than a dozen survived. The actual prison was formerly a school. Some of the teachers became the interrogators and wardens. Conditions were similar to slave ship conditions of the early 1800’s: shackles and chains, hosed once a week – maybe, tortured by drowning, brute force, hanging and electrocution. All of this accomplished by children: vicious and evil teens, trained for this purpose by the Khmer Rouge.
Tuk Tuk across town to Friends Restaurant, an NGO (non-governmental organization) set up to help street children learn the restaurant trade, plus supported other vocational schools, provided training in hygiene, general education and language skills. What a wonderful, cheery and colorful place to brighten our spirits and warm our hearts. It did restore our faith in humanity. Further, the food was mouth watering, unusual fusion cuisine, plus the money went to a great cause.
Today we made preparations for Christmas Eve dinner; so off to the central market where Judee bought a beautiful Khmer piece of hand woven ikat silk and a center piece for the dinner table: a white bouquet of lotus blossoms. She checked out a spa with a Christmas special for a message, facial, pedicure and manicure for tomorrow: 2.5 hours for $37US.
12-25
Merry Christmas. What a bountiful dinner of home made goodies we scarfed down last night: turkey with stuffing, green beans, mushrooms and wild rice, gravy, and cranberry sauce, desert of ice cream (cookies and cream and vanilla) with brownies, topped off with a chocolate wine sauce and chocolate wafers. Carols playing softly, we talked with our new friends learning about their lives and jobs overseas. One a photographer, the other working for an NGO as a communications specialist and general volunteer (paid) gofer. We heard stories of living in the middle east where one of the woman’s fathers was the first civilian killed as the country erupted into civil war. The other loved Afghanistan and wanted to return as soon as possible. These women are strong and enduring as they live and work in marginal third world conditions offering their expertise to help others.
Now, Christmas morning, we both are experiencing the “runs”. Welcome back to Southeast Asia! We can still eat, so sat down to Anne’s bagels, cream cheese, lox and coffee before Judee takes off to pretty herself and I go out in the very hot sun to wash and tune up Bici before we start tomorrow up river to Siem Reap for New Year’s.
This afternoon we have been invited to join a group of Hashers for an Aussie BBQ and beer. We are blessed!
“Without color, people die…wanderers adds color!” Art
12-26
Do you hear a thrumming sound? It is the engines of our river ferry boat. We are on our way to Siem Reap. When you vision sardines packed in a can you will have a good idea of how we are traveling. No more seats inside this long narrow white projectile with luggage and more people splashed across the roof. One hundred to 150 souls with no life vests anywhere in sight. The boat itself is old and very worn out; windows screwed shut in places, bare wires hanging out. The note in the tourist book said the ferry does not meet international maritime standards. One of the things westerners get used to while traveling in the third world is the lack of any sort of public protections that one takes for granted at home. Further in this vein, I have noticed that none of the motos or motorbikes have mirrors. While riding in a Tuk Tuk yesterday, we observed an accident: a motorbike hit a man while crossing the street, knocking him to the pavement, scattering his wares all over. The heavier vehicle or object on the road has the right of way!
12-29
We have spent two mind-boggling days exploring Angkor Wat Conservation Preserve (UNESCO site). It is a pleasure to ride our bicycle shaded by trees along the roads plied by polite drivers of buses, tuk tuks, and motorcycles. It seems cool, the bike is unloaded and therefore, weightless and the distances are very short between the various temples, monasteries and palaces built over many years by various kings that comprise this preserve. It is peak tourist season so we are joined by bus loads of visitors lead by multi-lingual guides exploring the history and construction of the many structures. This is a complex scattered over miles of flat, jungle and rice fields.
We liked Bayon with its smiling Buddha faces the most, Angkor Wat for its friezes and towers. We purchased the three-day pass for $40US each but really were temple burned by the end of our long second day. Today we may tuk tuk out for the sunset at Angkor Wat since they say it is spectacular.
