The bus of course took not 4, not 5, but 6 + hours. Two ferries and one nightfall later we were in the dumpy town of Chau Doc set to hightail it out by boat in the morning. We ended up taking a rickshaw to the docks where the guy with us from the hotel found a woman willing to row us by hand in her long boat. While boarding with our big packs on the unstable, narrow vessel, Sarah almost fell and we almost capsized, right there in the dock. A few moments later, we were off. The woman was rowing hard for a long way and we were passing right through the middle of a fascinating floating village complete with blaring TV's and children waving to us (almost 'on cue') then met up with our real boat, which only had about 10 others in it as we chugged up the mighty Mekong River and stopped at the border. As promised, formalities on the Vietnam side were not a problem. We had lunch, then got on another boat. A boy was pleading with Sarah to give him her pen. She gave it to him thinking, "Poor thing,he has nothing to write with. How will he ever learn, get ahead or have a descent chance at life without a measly pen?" She then looked on the other side of the boat and there appeared the same boy with the pen asking another guy filling out a customs form if he wanted to buy it!
The boat left and crossed the border into Cambodia. We then disembarked for formalities there, which was also painless.
A couple of hours later, the cattle along the river changed from being velvet-y brown to white. They also seemed to grow in size and a few were even being bathed in the river by their meticulous Cambodian owners. Almost every group of children that saw us let out ecstatic screams of "Hello! Hello! Hello! Goodbye!"
We boarded a bus at our stop and were soon on our way to Phnom Penh, the capital, when we noticed another change. Now there were huge groups of people riding on the TOP of buses and minibuses. And we were iffy about our luggage being up there.
We arrived in Phom Penh and had a little trouble finding some place to stay as it seemed like everything was really booked. Once we did, we stayed there for a few days visiting the Palace, Silver Pagoda, S. 21, and the Killing Fields, witnessing firsthand the horrors of the Khmer Rouge regime, and how they orchestrated the most bizarre, closed-off government and social experiment in recent memory. Supposedly, from 1975-78, they abolished the calendar and made everything start at year 0, sealed all borders and canceled all flights except one night flight to Beijing, suspended the entire postal service, and required every citizen, including all women, children, elderly and infirm, EVERYONE to go out into the fields to work every day in backbreaking conditions, abolished schools and were suspicious of anyone intellectual -- to the point of executing an estimated 2 million people. Apparently no one in the world had enough political currency at the time to intervene except the Vietnamese, whose border was being crossed and attacked by the Khmer -- a decision they perhaps regretted as the Vietnamese invaded the entire country and kicked the Khmer back into the hills. Andy spoke with a few people who said the Khmer were still around 'in the hundreds,' mostly in the mountains, but that most people, in their words, "No like."
We also went to the only hill in town and saw monkeys -- TONS of monkeys playing around the temple -- so many it was almost a little gross. Andy also tried a few of the popular local delicacies including spider, which the leg tasted like crispy pork skin, cricket or grashopper (not sure which one), which tasted the same, and silk worm, which was the toughest psychologically to get past just because of the squishy texture, but in the end, it actually tasted like a creamy brazil nut. All were fine, it was just getting past a huge mental roadblock.
Our next stop was to go south to the coast and Sihanoukville, the beachside 'resort' that was a favorite of the old King Sihanouk. There we'd rest up, catch up and maybe have a little side adventure. At 1pm, we were on the promised four hour bus ride. This time, the times turned out to be accurate!
We boarded a bus at our stop and were soon on our way to Phnom Penh, the capital, when we noticed another change. Now there were huge groups of people riding on the TOP of buses and minibuses. And we were iffy about our luggage being up there.
We arrived in Phom Penh and had a little trouble finding some place to stay as it seemed like everything was really booked. Once we did, we stayed there for a few days visiting the Palace, Silver Pagoda, S. 21, and the Killing Fields, witnessing firsthand the horrors of the Khmer Rouge regime, and how they orchestrated the most bizarre, closed-off government and social experiment in recent memory. Supposedly, from 1975-78, they abolished the calendar and made everything start at year 0, sealed all borders and canceled all flights except one night flight to Beijing, suspended the entire postal service, and required every citizen, including all women, children, elderly and infirm, EVERYONE to go out into the fields to work every day in backbreaking conditions, abolished schools and were suspicious of anyone intellectual -- to the point of executing an estimated 2 million people. Apparently no one in the world had enough political currency at the time to intervene except the Vietnamese, whose border was being crossed and attacked by the Khmer -- a decision they perhaps regretted as the Vietnamese invaded the entire country and kicked the Khmer back into the hills. Andy spoke with a few people who said the Khmer were still around 'in the hundreds,' mostly in the mountains, but that most people, in their words, "No like."
We also went to the only hill in town and saw monkeys -- TONS of monkeys playing around the temple -- so many it was almost a little gross. Andy also tried a few of the popular local delicacies including spider, which the leg tasted like crispy pork skin, cricket or grashopper (not sure which one), which tasted the same, and silk worm, which was the toughest psychologically to get past just because of the squishy texture, but in the end, it actually tasted like a creamy brazil nut. All were fine, it was just getting past a huge mental roadblock.
Our next stop was to go south to the coast and Sihanoukville, the beachside 'resort' that was a favorite of the old King Sihanouk. There we'd rest up, catch up and maybe have a little side adventure. At 1pm, we were on the promised four hour bus ride. This time, the times turned out to be accurate!
No comments:
Post a Comment