"YOU SHOULD BE A CHEF RATTANA"

SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA

Temperature: 31 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: Are you gonna go my way, Lenny Kravitz

"I'm so excited," I say to Alecs, bouncing in my seat on the bus, "we're almost here," I add, barely able to contain myself. We are on the Mekong Express bus and after 10 hours of traveling we find ourselves back in the city of Siem Reap. Our original plan was to head back to Thailand after Sihanoukville but our love for this country is so strong we decided another week in paradise might not be such a bad idea. "This is the first time we've arrived in a city where we already have our bearings," Alecs say looking out the window at the familiar streets. "It's so nice that we already know people here too," I say, looking for Rattana as we pull into the bus terminal. "There he is," I say to Alecs, waving wildly to Rattana. For the first time we are one of the first people off the bus and I run over and give Rattana a big hug, so happy to be back here. We load everything in to the tuk-tuk and set back off to Golden Banana. The oh-so-cute hotel dog recognizes us and runs tour side, tail wagging and we both bend down to greet her. "

How was your trip to Phnom Penh," one of the Golden Banana staff asks us, handing over a fruity welcome drink. We both look at each other, the same doe-eyed grins on our faces, telling the staff about our trip and feeling so lucky back in our favorite city. "I want to invite you to my house and cook lunch for you tomorrow," Rattana says as we head to Good Na Restaurant. Thrilled at the idea of eating a home cooked meal from a local in his own house we happily accept his invitation. "Welcome back," the Filipina restaurant owners say as we hop out of the tuk-tuk. We spend the night eating, drinking and laughing it up with Rattana and the Filipino's, feeling at home for the first time in several weeks. 

We rise extra early the next morning to pick up some flowers for Rattana's wife at the Old Market. Wandering through the labyrinth of stalls we find ourselves deep in a web of precarious alleys. Turning left past stalls of silk scarves, the familiar smell of fermented fish paste wafts towards us. "We should be able to find some flowers here," I say to Alecs looking at

the sprawling fruit and vegetable market before us. Fresh mangoes, heaps of lemongrass, drying fillets of fish, skinned chickens and everything in between melds together in an entanglement of merchants. Spotting some white lotus flowers near an assemblage of durian fruits, we saunter over to a vendor and purchase a bouquet. Rattana picks us up around noon and we drive to the edge of the city down a narrow rocky road to a small flat. "Sorry my house is so small," Rattana says for the third time today. "Rattana we don't even have a house," I tell him, "we just move from hotel to hotel so your house is already bigger than ours." He smiles and brings out his wife and beautiful daughter to meet us. I hand Rattana's wife the flowers thanking her for having us over. "Your daughter is beautiful," Alecs says holding Rattana's six-month old daughter, who is wearing the outfit we bought her. "She really is," I tell him, "she has such big, round, deep eyes," I add. A whole roasted chicken sits on the table beside a tray of veggies and a pork-based soup. Rattana spoons some rice onto our plates and we dig into the delicious meal. Both Alecs and I are torn between making Rattana happy by taking seconds and thirds but we know this chicken is enough meat for his whole family for a week. "This really is delicious," Alecs says, "you should be a chef Rattana." We take several servings with only a little meat each time convincing Rattana we really are enjoying his delicious food. We spend a couple hours talking about Pol Pot, the Cambodian and Canadian governments and cultural differences before Rattana gets called away to take someone to Angkor Wat. "So tomorrow we will leave at 8 AM," Rattana says as he drops us off at the hotel. We nod our heads, thanking him for a wonderful experience and watch him disappear down the narrow street. "That was probably the best thing we've done on this entire trip," Alecs says as we walk to our bungalow,

"I know, we are so lucky to have made friends with such a great guy," I add as I walk with a spring in my step. The remainder of our day is spent doing some housecleaning (booking hotels, sending post-cards and e-mails etc.)

"Let's have breakfast before Rattana gets here," Alecs says the next morning while brushing his teeth. We rush to the hotel restaurant and down two baguettes with jam just in time for Rattana to pull up. "So floating village today?" Alecs says to Rattana jumping into the back of his tuk-tuk. He nods his head, kick starts the motorbike and we are off on yet another great adventure. The bumpy road curves along the riverbanks and we bounce around in the back as Rattana navigates past the rocks, cattle and other vehicles finally coming to rest at a sprawling dock along the great Tonle Sap lake. A friendly Khmer man greets us and leads us down to the waters edge. Carefully jumping from one long-tail boat to the next across the water we climb onto a wooden bench and wave farewell to Rattana. The Tonle Sap (or great lake) is 

the largest fresh water lake in all of Southeast Asia and is fed by the Mekong River. Looking almost like the ocean we cannot see land in the distance which shows it's massive size. Three young men wade in the water, casting fishing nets while two build a fire on shore handing the cooked fish to young women with cone-shaped hats who head out to sell them. Our boat passes a floating basketball court exiting the side canal and entering the greater Tonle Sap. "On your left is the floating Vietnamese village," says our young guide "and ahead you can see the Khmer floating village." Ethnic Vietnamese are one of the largest non-khmer groups in Cambodia and are often referred to as 'Youns' meaning barbarians. Khmers generally do not have a good relationship with the Vietnamese which is mainly because the Vietnamese continued to occupy Cambodia well after t

hey helped bring down the Khmer Rouge. The Vietnamese also consider Khmers to be lazy because they fail to farm every inch of land, an absolute necessity in their densely populated country. The floating village is much different from the floating market we visited in Thailand and Alecs and I are both fascinated with the everyday goings on here in the village. We stop at a floating gas station for a large plastic bag of gasoline which the driver funnels into his boat. Alecs looks over at me and smiles. "Look there's a dog in that house," I say to Alecs pointing to a small thatch-roof house floating in the centre of a village where a young dog barks madly at us, "that's just strange." We pass floating schools where little children recite after the teacher, their voices resonating over the water. We climb aboard a floating restaurant where pits of hungry catfish and crocodiles line the river showcasing some of the creatures living in the lake.  During the rainy season the lake almost doubles in size and it becomes a fisherman's dream as many dish spill in from the Mekong and

increase the numbers exponentially. Our last stop is a third-story look out point where we can see the lake's massive size and the sprawling villages where life is all on water. "That's such a strange way of living," Alecs says, "having to take a boat every time you want to visit your neighbour." The boat docks several minutes later and after finding Rattana we set off to visit yet another temple. We convince Rattana to be our guide in this completely deserted temple where only monks can be found and not a tourist is in sight. "This temple was built before Angkor Wat by king Sujavaraman IV," Rattana tells as the three of us climb to the central library. "I would sometimes study in this temple," he tells us, "many monks also go to school here,"he adds. The temple looks similar to many of the temples in the Angkor complex with a large surrounding wall, three galleries, a library and steep narrow steps. We stand in the shade as Rattana explains how the Khmer Rouge occupied this temple for several years after they were defeated. "Really?" Alecs says, "so even after the war was over the Khmer Rouge were still a problem? he asks." Rattana nods his head vigorously. "Oh yes," he says, "in 1990 my mom was on a train in Kampong Cham province and it was bombed by the Khmer Rouge. Then a soldier came on board and shot a monk sitting

directly across from her." Alecs and I look at each other in disbelief that more than 10 years after the war ended the people were still not safe. Daylight becomes darkness 

and after fully exploring the temple with a personal tour guide we agree to head back to the city. "We have to come back to Cambodia," I say to Alecs, "I love this place too much not to come back." Alecs agrees and we begin brainstorming the many ways we can make that desire into a reality. "We always end up doing what we say we're going to do," he says, "so we just need to promise ourselves we're going to do it and we will." With that joyous thought in our minds we unlock the door of our hotel and tuck ourselves into bed.

Tomorrow we are headed to the temple of Beng Melea, a one hour ride from the city and we need to depart at 7AM to beat the heat. 

Until next time,

Alecs and Meg in Siem Reap again!