Temperature: 33 Degrees Celsius
Track of the day: Hurt, Johnny Cash
"I don't wanna go," I whine as we sit on the balcony of our guesthouse in Don Khone, Laos waiting to begin our journey to Cambodia. "Me neither," Alecs says as he rocks in the hammock one last time, "but I'm sure we're going to have just as much fun in Cambodia," he adds. A quick boat ride and a short trip in a minivan has us at the almost completely deserted border crossing. A small hut with two border officials stamp our passports and another one sticks our visas inside them before we wander non-chalantly across the make-shift gate into
Cambodia. "There's something different about Cambodians," I say to Alecs as we stand in the open field just meters past the border crossing. "It's their infectious smile," Alecs says as our smiling bus driver herds us onto the bus bound for Siem Reap. Two buses leave the border with tourist bound for Phnom Penh and Siem Reap but an hour into the journey the bus to Phnom Penh breaks down. "Looks like everyone on that bus is getting on this bus," we hear two British guys beside us say. Our bus is carrying 25 people and their luggage on board and the tour company wants to fit another 25 people and their luggage in a bus with only 5 vacant seats. Alecs and I look at each other smiling and thoroughly bemused as backpacks and tourists fill the aisles. A Canadian couple make a big deal about the safety of the bus with all the extra passengers and begin rallying support from others. A thoroughly irritating older European couple in front of us sends a piece of paper to the driver up front saying he must agree to being legally responsible for every passengers safety. "Why do you all take this," the woman says to us as she tries to stage a walk-off. "If they're so worried about their own safety than they should get off the bus," I wisper to
Alecs as we remain neutral and quiet through the whole ordeal. After nearly an hour of passengers fighting with drivers and operators we depart leaving behind the fearful angry passengers but not the European couple. The long bus ride becomes even longer as the European couple tries to stir up trouble by telling lies about the drivers being angry with certain people and exaggerating everything imaginable. When we finally hit our overnight stop in Kampong Cham 12 hours later we peel ourselves off the seats and are taken to guesthouses for the night. The first guesthouse is fully booked so we head to the next one and agree to check-in for the night wanting nothing more than a place to lay our heads. Moments after signing-in and paying $7 for the room an ugly Cambodian man wearing only a towel around his waist opens the door to his room and walks outside where a chained puppy stands. Although we can no longer see the puppy or the man, we can hear the cries of pain as the puppy is beaten senselessly with great force for no apparent reason. Shrieks and yelps fill the air and my heart feels as though it might wither up and die. Looking around we begin to realize we are in the most dodgy and unsafe looking places we have ever been in and not wanting to get ourselves in trouble we close the door to our room. "I hate Cambodia and I hate Cambodians," I say tears welling up inmy eyes as I replay the sounds of the puppies cries. We both feel sick for not standing up for the dog and for supporting a place like this and we fall asleep very ashamed of ourselves and already not liking Cambodia. The morning comes quickly and we curtly checkout before the sun-rises trying to convince each other that we only met bad people in a bad place who do not represent the country or it's people. Luckily for us the bus ride reinforces this and we begin to change our mind about it.
A young local boy sits on the seat in-front of us and notices a picture in the book I'm holding of my dog Klinker. He reaches out asking me with his eyes if he can hold it and I hand it over. He curiously looks at the photo and shows his mom and dad before giving it back to me. Alecs and I remain on the bus at the pit stop and when everyone is back on board the family in-front of us hands us some fruit as a kind gesture. "I'm starting to like Cambodia," I say to Alecs as we peel the orange-like fruit, "it's starting to turn around." Things did turn around and a painless 4 hour bus ride had us in Siem Reap - gateway to Angkor Wat. We check in to a fantastic guesthouse called the Golden Banana B&B which I found online back in Canada. "I think i'm going to like this place," Alecs says as we examine the clean
sheets, air-conditioning and bugless room. The owner of this hotel became an orphan during the reign of Pol Pot and was taken to New Zealand by an NGO where he studied and grew up. He later decided to return to his country, reunite with friends and start a hotel giving back to the community. We are given two fruity welcome drinks and another employee spends 1/2 an hour going over a map and explaining the area to us. "The service here is impeccable," Alecs says smiling. A chubby well-groomed dog wanders into the leafy lobby, tail wagging and I bend down to pet her. As I look into this dogs happy brown eyes I feel a huge pang of guilt and feel that by not speaking out I have condemned that puppy to a life of horror. Back in our room Alecs and I unpack our backpacks for the first time on this trip, excited about staying in one place for a whole week. "It's says there's a Filipino restaurant here," I say to Alecs reading from the free booklet provided by the hotel.
Alecs perks up at the idea of finding other Filipino's here in Cambodia and at having sinigang na baboy (pork and sour stew over rice). After a long clean hot shower we venture out into the city of Siem Reap, bustling with street vendors, tuk-tuk's, tourists and locals. Smiling people wave for no reason and friendly locals nod as we pass them by in search of Good Na Restaurant. We soon spot the little place on a busy side street and walk straight in, sitting down - excited to see the menu. After ordering Alecs speaks to the waitress/owner in Tagalog (Filipino) and we make instant friends. After noticing that I can follow their conversation, one of the Filipina's asks if I can speak Tagalog. "Nakaka intinde po ako ng Tagalog, pero hindi po ako nakaka pag salita (I can understand Tagalog but not speak it)", I say, feeling a little smug despite my obvious mispronunciation of every word. Everyone smiles and they soon invite us out for an evening of fun where we meet a huge community of expat Filipino workers living in Siem Reap. "That was too weird," Alecs says when we arrive back at our hotel, "it's just odd to find Filipino's in Cambodia."
We fall asleep quickly in a clean, comfortable bed finding ourselves falling in love with this country. The next day consists of catching up on computer-related activities (bookings and such) before we head to Angkor Wat to purchase out tickets and watch the sunset. We call up Rattana, the Khmer tuk-tuk driver that describes himself as half Cambodian half Filipino even though he is not Filipino at all to take us to the ruins. We head to the definitive sunset spot at the hilltop temple of Phnom Bakheng. We climb up a tall mountain with hundreds of tourists
and jockey for space on the multi-tiered temple to watch the sunset. "I hope the rest of the temples aren't this busy," Alecs says trying to enjoy the surroundings. As the sun comes down in the sky it becomes a brilliant shade of red and blue and we both sit in awe of the fact we are here doing this. Moments after the sun sets the hoards of tourists disappear back down the mountain and Alecs and I find ourselves one of five people left at the temple. Phnom Bakeng was the first mountain temple to be built in the vicinity of Angkor. The temple has five tiers and seven levels, including the base and summit which represent the seven Hindu heavens. We climb over every part of the temple and when we finally decide to leave we are left walking down the mountain in complete darkness with out flashlight back at the hotel. "Turn the iPhone on," I say to Alecs as we try to see the groun, hoping we don't trip
over anything. The phone gives us enough light to find our way down and then it rings with our tuk-tuk driver on the other end. "Are you two okay," he asks, worried that we were lost or stuck somewhere at the top. "We're almost there Rattana, sorry we took so long," Alecs says apologetically. Spending those moments high atop a mountain exploring an ancient temple after the tourists dispersed was a rewarding experience and we head back to the hotel excited about seeing the rest of the amazing Angkor ruins.
So long for now,
Alecs and Meg
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