It occurred to me that we spend so much of our lives learning to be independent, unique individuals that we've lost touch with the concept of collective growth. However, we still feel it. That insatiable void that exists in everybody at some point in their life comes from the desire to be a part of something bigger than yourself. In ancient times, without electricity to cause light pollution in the night sky, people were reminded every night of our place in the universe. It was obvious that we are quite literally part of something much bigger. Naturally, various schools of thought emerged all across the planet. These evolved into our first religions. People could confirm their beliefs simply by looking up. The Mayans were only one civilization among numerous others who's entire culture revolved around the cosmos. And contrary to all the 2012 mumbo jumbo, the end of the Mayan calendar does not mean the end of the world. It simply marks the end of an era -- the end of an actual astronomical cycle. The implications of this are obviously a topic of debate.
Nowadays, as religions evolve to accommodate our ever changing condition, they are put through an arsenal of tests. For most of us, it has become increasingly rare to get a clear glympse at a seemingly infinite night sky. And with so many things to distract us in our daily lives, it can seem impossible to make time to set a space and look inward. Questions of existence are therefore much harder to address, if we think to ask them at all. Faith is far from dead, but because it feels more and more like blind belief, we find ourselves searching for a more tangible purpose. As living beings, we inherently feel the need to reproduce to ensure the survival of our species. That's something. Yet even that is becoming more and more concerning. Our planet is not equipped to handle even our current population for long at the rate we are unnecessarily stripping it of it's resources. But we still make babies. We hope that they will do something significant with their lives, the way our parents hoped it for us. And the cycle continues, however detetched we may feel.
What exactly is this significance we hope to achieve? We know problems exist, at every level. Some of us take a personal stand, or join movements, or become politicians, to fight for what we believe in. Most of us though, go about our daily lives, laughing or cursing at the news, debating with friends and colleagues, hoping for some positive change to happen. Individuality is debilitating in that regard, for what impact could the average person possibly have on the faith of a country, much less our planet?
Well, a lot. A group cannot exist without individuals. A movement cannot happen without a cause. A country cannot thrive without the support of its people. So what if we bridged the gap between the individual and immediate national and global impact? What if we were confident that our voices were being heard, and that it resulted in immediate action? And what if we didn't have to compromise anything to be a part of this?
We have the tools, at least for now. And this is already a reality. Discover sites like www.avaaz.org and www.accessnow.org then spread the word. The cost is nothing. The reward, a little meaning to your day.
Happy End-of-the-World Day!
Friday, December 21, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
E.T.
Although this motorcycle adventure takes me far off the beaten path, it always brings me back to civilization to sleep. I find that I'm always happy to find an internet connection. It's strange to spend days in parts that have barely had electricity for a decade, then to spend those same nights connecting with people across the planet. It's also strange being an outsider. I'm not just a foreigner here. Each town and village has a market much like the one in Disney's Aladdin. Whenever I walk through one, it's like I'm a travelling circus act. Everyone stares shamelessly like they've only ever heard of creatures like me. I'm pretty sure that being bald adds a great deal to my entertainment value. Even the oldest people have a full head of hair around here, and there are a lot of old people. Many point and make some comment in Vietnamese, then openly laugh at me -- or the idea of me, I'm not really sure. Others shout "hello!" Some come up and grab my hand. Some gesture for pictures to be taken. One lady came up and started rubbing my head (she's the random lady in my photos). Kids usually smile and wave. All in all, it feels pretty friendly, so even in the discomfort inherent in feeling like an alien, it's a good time.
My favorite reaction to me so far was from a kid who couldn't have been more than 4. He was walking along the road with his kid brother who was half his size. That, in and of itself, made me smile. But as soon as he noticed me riding by, he jumped and yelled, "hello!" flailing his arms in the air. His mini mini-me immediately followed suit. It was like a scene out of a Pixar movie. It was amazing to me the age at which these kids learn to recognize foreigners and know what to say at that moment to provoke a response.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
City Sushi
So I got to talking to my guide about the Chinese and he started to laugh. He spouted out a bunch of Chinese sounding words in mockery of their language, then said, "Ha! Can't undastand a wud. Unberievabo!"
That was the highlight of my day.
City Sushi Reference
That was the highlight of my day.
City Sushi Reference
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Vietnam, Phở k'Yeah!
Everything I read and heard about Vietnam before I got here had me pretty worried. It was my understanding that I would be constantly swarmed by people trying to get at my money. It would be worse than Thailand and it would be hard to get a break anywhere. I arrived prepared to face it head on.
Well, so far, not much of that at all. The scooter taxi drivers and other street vendors accept "no" for an answer the first time around, and they smile. They're more lazy than invasive. I've only been tricked out of a couple dollars, and like my fishing adventure in Cambodia, it was more entertaining than anything else.
The Vietnamese women have much more charm and appeal than those of any of the other countries I've been on this trip. The food is better also. Phở for $1.25? Yes, please. Other options are just as yummy. People are friendly and helpful. The country's climate and geography are diverse, offering a wide range of things to do. It's home to Ha Long Bay, one of the "New Seven Wonders of Nature." I haven't been yet but it's on the agenda. There is obviously some pretty mind blowing history between Vietnam and the US; however, I was surprised to discover that there is still a lot of evidence of it. In any case, I am a giant fan of Vietnam.
We spent five days in Ho Chi Minh and today was our fifth and final day in Dalat. It's all documented pretty well in the photos so I won't get into it too much here. I will mention a couple noteworthy things though. The traffic in Ho Chi Minh is ridiculous. It's a constant wall of scooters in all directions, at all times, with nothing whatsoever to indicate that traffic regulations exist. The only way to cross the street is to look straight ahead and go. Keep a steady pace and let the traffic work its way around you.
I gave in to the comfort of home again and went to the movies again. Twice. I saw Wreck-it Ralph in 3D. You should to. We visited the War Remnants Museum and I was shocked to learn the details of the Vietnam War that I wasn't taught in school. It didn't improve my opinion of the leaders of our country. Here in Dalat, I saw a big truck reversing out of a driveway. Instead of beeping, it played the tune of Happy Birthday in a pitch identical to that of an ice cream truck. Today we rode mountain bikes 80 km.
Tomorrow, I'm on my own again. I decided that I need it again. I'm doing a six day motorcycle tour through the central highlands with a personal guide. I'm hoping that it will be the closest thing to the kind of exploring that I've been wanting to do all along. It's all off the beaten path and a guaranteed way to get a real taste of the local culture. There is a good chance that I'll be internet free until it's over.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Le Touriste
This post is long overdue. It seems as though I have lost sight of the intentions I had set for myself on this trip. Thanks to a well placed comment by Salem in response to my last post, I've decided to make a conscious effort to stay focused on my writing. I don't mean on the frequency; I mean on the content. I've gotten so caught up in writing about what I'm doing, that I barely mention how I'm doing, much less why I'm doing.
In the first couple weeks of this trip, I was already beginning to feel like a tourist. This feeling is becoming more and more prominent as the days and weeks go by. Everything I've done so far has been easily accessible. All the activities that I've taken part in were developed to cater to people just like me. It pains me to say that because I pride myself in being different. Sure, I'm having a great time and experiencing new things. I'm extremely grateful to be traveling, but I don't feel like I'm doing it right. There are tens of thousands of backpackers wandering about, just going through the motions. I feel like one of them. I am one of them. At first I was surprised to run into people that I had seen before in other cities or countries, but the reality is that Southeast Asia is a circuit and there are so many people on it that you're bound to bump into some familiar face every now and again.
Being part of the backpacker crowd has been one of the most frustrating things for me. I feel like a giant target every second that I'm in public with my bag on. It's not just a feeling; I am in fact a giant target. I do my best to lose my backpack as quickly as possible any time I get somewhere new. I don't mind the looks I get for being a foreigner -- I've long since gotten used to those from my friends at home. I just smile at people like it's my job, but I feel slightly vulnerable with my backpack on.
Another frustration comes from visiting tourist attractions. The temples at Angkor Wat, for example, would have been much more awe-inspiring had I been alone at the site. Instead, I had to fight for a clear shot every time I wanted a photo, and wait in a crowd at certain narrow passages that created a bottleneck. I like the feeling of discovering something for myself, like I'm uncovering it for the first time, because it helps spark my imagination. This is nearly impossible with so many people around. The crowds also make me feel like I'm on vacation. I do not deserve, nor do I need, a vacation. Anything that makes me feel like I'm on vacation also makes me feel like I'm wasting time; like I've only substituted one set of distractions at home for another set out here. Even blogging about these things feels like I'm writing for the sake of filling white space.
So, purpose is still the name of the game. I left on this trip to explore myself under the influence of foreign stimuli. I created this blog primarily to document the progression of my thoughts. It's in the blog description. This doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing about what I'm doing. I still want to track where I've been and what I've seen. I will also continue to tell stories about certain things that happen, because those are the building blocks of my experience abroad. You know, there is no substitute for experiencing a broad. Plus, I would really like to maintain this illusion I have that I am funny. In spite of the criticism, I've come to accept that laughing at my own jokes is an inherited and inherent trait. Unfortunately, both of my parents were carriers so there is no escaping it. You can bet that if you laugh at something I've written, I laughed twice as hard when when I wrote it. On the bright(er) side, laughing is both a symptom and a cause of happiness, so I will do it even at the expense of you rolling rolling your eyes.
I am resetting the balance of this blog, to keep it alive. I am extra ordinary in that I, like anyone else, have the capacity to process my experiences and spin a philosophical web from my takeaways. But I am extraordinary because I, like relatively few, am taking it upon myself to put my philosophies into words that can be interpreted and used by anyone; not as some obscure basis for what's right or wrong, but as neutral grounds for stimulating progressive thought.
How's that Mr. XL?
In the first couple weeks of this trip, I was already beginning to feel like a tourist. This feeling is becoming more and more prominent as the days and weeks go by. Everything I've done so far has been easily accessible. All the activities that I've taken part in were developed to cater to people just like me. It pains me to say that because I pride myself in being different. Sure, I'm having a great time and experiencing new things. I'm extremely grateful to be traveling, but I don't feel like I'm doing it right. There are tens of thousands of backpackers wandering about, just going through the motions. I feel like one of them. I am one of them. At first I was surprised to run into people that I had seen before in other cities or countries, but the reality is that Southeast Asia is a circuit and there are so many people on it that you're bound to bump into some familiar face every now and again.
Being part of the backpacker crowd has been one of the most frustrating things for me. I feel like a giant target every second that I'm in public with my bag on. It's not just a feeling; I am in fact a giant target. I do my best to lose my backpack as quickly as possible any time I get somewhere new. I don't mind the looks I get for being a foreigner -- I've long since gotten used to those from my friends at home. I just smile at people like it's my job, but I feel slightly vulnerable with my backpack on.
Another frustration comes from visiting tourist attractions. The temples at Angkor Wat, for example, would have been much more awe-inspiring had I been alone at the site. Instead, I had to fight for a clear shot every time I wanted a photo, and wait in a crowd at certain narrow passages that created a bottleneck. I like the feeling of discovering something for myself, like I'm uncovering it for the first time, because it helps spark my imagination. This is nearly impossible with so many people around. The crowds also make me feel like I'm on vacation. I do not deserve, nor do I need, a vacation. Anything that makes me feel like I'm on vacation also makes me feel like I'm wasting time; like I've only substituted one set of distractions at home for another set out here. Even blogging about these things feels like I'm writing for the sake of filling white space.
So, purpose is still the name of the game. I left on this trip to explore myself under the influence of foreign stimuli. I created this blog primarily to document the progression of my thoughts. It's in the blog description. This doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing about what I'm doing. I still want to track where I've been and what I've seen. I will also continue to tell stories about certain things that happen, because those are the building blocks of my experience abroad. You know, there is no substitute for experiencing a broad. Plus, I would really like to maintain this illusion I have that I am funny. In spite of the criticism, I've come to accept that laughing at my own jokes is an inherited and inherent trait. Unfortunately, both of my parents were carriers so there is no escaping it. You can bet that if you laugh at something I've written, I laughed twice as hard when when I wrote it. On the bright(er) side, laughing is both a symptom and a cause of happiness, so I will do it even at the expense of you rolling rolling your eyes.
I am resetting the balance of this blog, to keep it alive. I am extra ordinary in that I, like anyone else, have the capacity to process my experiences and spin a philosophical web from my takeaways. But I am extraordinary because I, like relatively few, am taking it upon myself to put my philosophies into words that can be interpreted and used by anyone; not as some obscure basis for what's right or wrong, but as neutral grounds for stimulating progressive thought.
How's that Mr. XL?
Saturday, December 1, 2012
On the Move
After receiving the second email asking if I am still alive, I decided that it's been too long since my last post. I spent over a week in Cambodia and I have yet to write a word about it. I'm in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam right now. In spite of my failure to maintain my online presence, these last couple weeks have felt rather insignificant. It's probably because I haven't given them any meaning by documenting them, that they feel lost in a way. Let's see if I can't change that. I'll do my best to recap without losing your interest.
Bangkok
I spent another two days in Bangkok after my last post. Since I still wasn't feeling 100%, I went back to the part of town that I had discovered in my hunt for a chiropractor the day before. I finally got adjusted, which made an enormous difference, but I stuck around the area because it too had a sort of heeling effect on me. I spent most of my time between a small pastry cafe and the Terminal 21 mall that I mentioned in my last post. The cafe felt like a quaint little European patisserie. Well, almost. It felt like a place trying to feel like a quaint European patisserie, but that was good enough. Especially after having spent so much time in underdeveloped corners of southeast Asia. The mall had a completely different feel of course, since it was all new and modern, but it had a similar effect on me. I can't describe the happy feeling I got wandering around that place. I felt like a kid at an amusement park. I even went to see the new James Bond movie. Popcorn never tasted so good! In hindsight though, I have mixed emotions over the excitement I felt from the comforts of life that I specifically wanted to get away from by leaving home.
At the end of those two days, I was eager to leave the big city. I booked a bus for Siem Reap, Cambodia.
Siem Reap
I chose Siem Reap because it's the closest town to Angkor Wat. I have a relatively new found appreciation for ancient cultures, partly because they seem to have had a much better understanding of what's happening on our planet right now than we do, so I was excited to walk a midst the ruins. I was not disappointed. I mostly wandered slowly, imaging what it would be like to live there during it's prime. There were several areas of the temples that were being restored. That made me cringe a bit. All of the projects that had already been completed were marked with signs with "before and after" pictures. To me, the rubble and authentic deteriorated structures and remains were much more wondrous and impressive than the recreations. And it's not like there are a shortage of temples in tact to visit. I don't understand. It was a great little day trip though. The only thing I would have done differently was sleep the night before.
It turns out that Siem Reap has quite the backpackers' nightlife scene going on. They even named a street Pub Street and labeled it with suspended neon lettering at both ends. Something about it was just too irresistible to stay away. There were other factors too though. I was finally feeling like myself again. And I was spending all my waking daylight hours reading. Come 11 o'clock every night, I was ready to socialize! So I did, and it seriously messed up my sleep schedule. I didn't go to bed before 5 every morning, and never sober. I didn't get out of bed til 5pm one day. I realized that I'm no more fond of wasting days here than I am at home. I had only planned on staying a couple days -- long enough to visit the temples -- and then leave. I ended up staying five because I was never in a condition to take the early bus out. I did meet some very cool people though, notably a bad-ass Irish guy. He was 6'7", 250 lbs, and the nicest dude ever. He was my partner in crime for a couple nights. He brought his tuk tuk driver with him everywhere just for fun. Aside from being hilarious in and of itself, that had it's own benefits. We bought him a few cheap drinks and joked around with him a bit, and he brought us wherever we wanted to go, free of charge. The coolest girls I met were a German and a Canadian, neither of which I exchanged information with or have any photo documentation of, unfortunately. Don't over-analyze that.
That was my Siem Reap experience. Aside from my day at the temples, it was sleep and read by day, party by night. I read two and a half books in those few days which is a record for me. I probably would have stayed longer if on my last day I didn't receive a message from the Dutch girl that I traveled with in Laos. She contacted me in a panic because her wallet and backpack had just been stolen. Coincidentally, she was still in Cambodia, only a twelve hour bus ride away. It was a perfect excuse to break free of the party life and backwards sleep schedule that I had fallen into, neither of which I was genuinely happy with. More importantly though, she had no cash and I was close enough to help out. So I booked the next bus to Sihanoukville where she was staying.
It didn't leave until the following morning so that night I went out once again. I met a French guy and a French girl at dinner. They were sitting at the table next to mine and after a I let a few smiles slip in obvious reaction to their conversation, the girl said to the guy, "il parle francais le bonhomme." She said it in such a way that it was clear that she intended me to hear. I smiled again, and before I knew it, I was joining them for dinner.
These two had an interesting dynamic. The guy was fifty and the girl was twenty-five. They had met on the road a few weeks prior and had spent a couple days together. They happened to run into each other again and were spending a couple more days together. It was strictly platonic. They kind of had a father/daughter relationship going on. Although, it became clear by the end of the night that they didn't share a mutual affection for one another. She was actually something a nuisance to him. Once when she went to the bathroom, he went off to me about how stupid she was. I found it all thoroughly entertaining. Especially since she really enjoyed his company. Anyway, after dinner we stumbled upon a Cambodian wedding that was taking place in the middle of a small street near the restaurant. This was quite the ordeal. Loud, live, terrible, Cambodian music. One big tent with tables and chairs blocking the entire street. Beer and food a plenty. And the best part, every foreigner that stopped to watch or take a picture was invited onto the dance floor and given a drink. Basically, the wedding crashed us. Needless to say, I ended up drunk again. I got in around 3:30, fell asleep around 4:45, got up at 5:15, and as instructed, I was waiting for my bus to come at 5:30. It showed up around 7.
Sihanoukville
I arrived in Sihanoukville after 9pm and took a scooter taxi to the guesthouse where I was greeted with a smile and a hug. She filled me in on exactly what had happened to her. Simple case of neglect really. She was riding a bike and had put her backpack in the front basket. Two guys on a scooter came by, and yoink! Luckily, she had given her passport as a deposit for the bike rental. Still, camera, phone, and wallet gone.
This only solidified her existing contempt for Cambodia. Apparently, she hadn't felt safe anywhere in the country. I assured her that it was no worse than any other country that she had visited on this trip. Despite my better judgement, I also told her that it was only because she let her guard down that she got robbed. The first rule in every guidebook and travel site is to keep your valuables as inaccessible to strangers as possible.
Anyway, we spent three days in Sihanoukville. It's a pretty neat beach town but there isn't a whole lot going on aside from the typical island day trips and "party cruises." It was nice to get in the ocean though and just relax on the beach. We didn't venture very far from the guesthouse because she was too scared, even though she was no longer alone. That didn't bother me though because the place we were staying was just a stone's throw away from most things worth seeing. On the last day, I decided to go for an evening fishing trip that I was given a flyer for. I was feeling like I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary in Cambodia so I went, on the grounds that it was something different. The miss decided not to join for reasons still unknown to me. I suspect for fear of something.
The flyer had advertised: $9 per person, music on the boat, a free beer or soda, BBQ your fish on the boat, 3 hours of fun, and more. The whole enchilada. However, when I got to the dock I was the only one there for Mr. Theap's fishing adventure! He explained to me that I could still go but since I was alone, it would cost more to "cover his costs." I thought about it for a while and decided to go for it anyway. What he failed to mention was that he was putting me on a smaller boat, with a random Cambodian guy, no music, no fishing poles, no BBQ and no beer. Luckily I had come prepared with my own six-pack. I had done the math in my head: 3 hours + supposed food + supposed company - one free beer = not enough beers.
I ended up having the time of my life. Not in the holy-shit-that-was-crazy-fun kinda way, but in the calm, reflective, grateful, I-love-this-for-what-it-is kind of way. I couldn't help but appreciate the unexpectedness of the whole thing. I can't really do it justice right here so check out the photos and captions in my Sihanoukville album. We only ended up staying out on the boat for two hours but the sun had set and I was perfectly happy to head in. Mr. Theap greeted me at the dock, at which point I realized that he had really only planned for us to be out for two hours, even though he kept repeating "tree owa" before I left. I found his whole scam rather entertaining. As far as I was concerned, the joke was on him. He led me to a restaurant on the beach and threw all my live fish on a ready grill that was out on the sand. I ordered some fries and a beer and had myself a wonderful dinner.
Bangkok
I spent another two days in Bangkok after my last post. Since I still wasn't feeling 100%, I went back to the part of town that I had discovered in my hunt for a chiropractor the day before. I finally got adjusted, which made an enormous difference, but I stuck around the area because it too had a sort of heeling effect on me. I spent most of my time between a small pastry cafe and the Terminal 21 mall that I mentioned in my last post. The cafe felt like a quaint little European patisserie. Well, almost. It felt like a place trying to feel like a quaint European patisserie, but that was good enough. Especially after having spent so much time in underdeveloped corners of southeast Asia. The mall had a completely different feel of course, since it was all new and modern, but it had a similar effect on me. I can't describe the happy feeling I got wandering around that place. I felt like a kid at an amusement park. I even went to see the new James Bond movie. Popcorn never tasted so good! In hindsight though, I have mixed emotions over the excitement I felt from the comforts of life that I specifically wanted to get away from by leaving home.
At the end of those two days, I was eager to leave the big city. I booked a bus for Siem Reap, Cambodia.
Siem Reap
I chose Siem Reap because it's the closest town to Angkor Wat. I have a relatively new found appreciation for ancient cultures, partly because they seem to have had a much better understanding of what's happening on our planet right now than we do, so I was excited to walk a midst the ruins. I was not disappointed. I mostly wandered slowly, imaging what it would be like to live there during it's prime. There were several areas of the temples that were being restored. That made me cringe a bit. All of the projects that had already been completed were marked with signs with "before and after" pictures. To me, the rubble and authentic deteriorated structures and remains were much more wondrous and impressive than the recreations. And it's not like there are a shortage of temples in tact to visit. I don't understand. It was a great little day trip though. The only thing I would have done differently was sleep the night before.
It turns out that Siem Reap has quite the backpackers' nightlife scene going on. They even named a street Pub Street and labeled it with suspended neon lettering at both ends. Something about it was just too irresistible to stay away. There were other factors too though. I was finally feeling like myself again. And I was spending all my waking daylight hours reading. Come 11 o'clock every night, I was ready to socialize! So I did, and it seriously messed up my sleep schedule. I didn't go to bed before 5 every morning, and never sober. I didn't get out of bed til 5pm one day. I realized that I'm no more fond of wasting days here than I am at home. I had only planned on staying a couple days -- long enough to visit the temples -- and then leave. I ended up staying five because I was never in a condition to take the early bus out. I did meet some very cool people though, notably a bad-ass Irish guy. He was 6'7", 250 lbs, and the nicest dude ever. He was my partner in crime for a couple nights. He brought his tuk tuk driver with him everywhere just for fun. Aside from being hilarious in and of itself, that had it's own benefits. We bought him a few cheap drinks and joked around with him a bit, and he brought us wherever we wanted to go, free of charge. The coolest girls I met were a German and a Canadian, neither of which I exchanged information with or have any photo documentation of, unfortunately. Don't over-analyze that.
That was my Siem Reap experience. Aside from my day at the temples, it was sleep and read by day, party by night. I read two and a half books in those few days which is a record for me. I probably would have stayed longer if on my last day I didn't receive a message from the Dutch girl that I traveled with in Laos. She contacted me in a panic because her wallet and backpack had just been stolen. Coincidentally, she was still in Cambodia, only a twelve hour bus ride away. It was a perfect excuse to break free of the party life and backwards sleep schedule that I had fallen into, neither of which I was genuinely happy with. More importantly though, she had no cash and I was close enough to help out. So I booked the next bus to Sihanoukville where she was staying.
It didn't leave until the following morning so that night I went out once again. I met a French guy and a French girl at dinner. They were sitting at the table next to mine and after a I let a few smiles slip in obvious reaction to their conversation, the girl said to the guy, "il parle francais le bonhomme." She said it in such a way that it was clear that she intended me to hear. I smiled again, and before I knew it, I was joining them for dinner.
These two had an interesting dynamic. The guy was fifty and the girl was twenty-five. They had met on the road a few weeks prior and had spent a couple days together. They happened to run into each other again and were spending a couple more days together. It was strictly platonic. They kind of had a father/daughter relationship going on. Although, it became clear by the end of the night that they didn't share a mutual affection for one another. She was actually something a nuisance to him. Once when she went to the bathroom, he went off to me about how stupid she was. I found it all thoroughly entertaining. Especially since she really enjoyed his company. Anyway, after dinner we stumbled upon a Cambodian wedding that was taking place in the middle of a small street near the restaurant. This was quite the ordeal. Loud, live, terrible, Cambodian music. One big tent with tables and chairs blocking the entire street. Beer and food a plenty. And the best part, every foreigner that stopped to watch or take a picture was invited onto the dance floor and given a drink. Basically, the wedding crashed us. Needless to say, I ended up drunk again. I got in around 3:30, fell asleep around 4:45, got up at 5:15, and as instructed, I was waiting for my bus to come at 5:30. It showed up around 7.
Sihanoukville
I arrived in Sihanoukville after 9pm and took a scooter taxi to the guesthouse where I was greeted with a smile and a hug. She filled me in on exactly what had happened to her. Simple case of neglect really. She was riding a bike and had put her backpack in the front basket. Two guys on a scooter came by, and yoink! Luckily, she had given her passport as a deposit for the bike rental. Still, camera, phone, and wallet gone.
This only solidified her existing contempt for Cambodia. Apparently, she hadn't felt safe anywhere in the country. I assured her that it was no worse than any other country that she had visited on this trip. Despite my better judgement, I also told her that it was only because she let her guard down that she got robbed. The first rule in every guidebook and travel site is to keep your valuables as inaccessible to strangers as possible.
Anyway, we spent three days in Sihanoukville. It's a pretty neat beach town but there isn't a whole lot going on aside from the typical island day trips and "party cruises." It was nice to get in the ocean though and just relax on the beach. We didn't venture very far from the guesthouse because she was too scared, even though she was no longer alone. That didn't bother me though because the place we were staying was just a stone's throw away from most things worth seeing. On the last day, I decided to go for an evening fishing trip that I was given a flyer for. I was feeling like I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary in Cambodia so I went, on the grounds that it was something different. The miss decided not to join for reasons still unknown to me. I suspect for fear of something.
The flyer had advertised: $9 per person, music on the boat, a free beer or soda, BBQ your fish on the boat, 3 hours of fun, and more. The whole enchilada. However, when I got to the dock I was the only one there for Mr. Theap's fishing adventure! He explained to me that I could still go but since I was alone, it would cost more to "cover his costs." I thought about it for a while and decided to go for it anyway. What he failed to mention was that he was putting me on a smaller boat, with a random Cambodian guy, no music, no fishing poles, no BBQ and no beer. Luckily I had come prepared with my own six-pack. I had done the math in my head: 3 hours + supposed food + supposed company - one free beer = not enough beers.
I ended up having the time of my life. Not in the holy-shit-that-was-crazy-fun kinda way, but in the calm, reflective, grateful, I-love-this-for-what-it-is kind of way. I couldn't help but appreciate the unexpectedness of the whole thing. I can't really do it justice right here so check out the photos and captions in my Sihanoukville album. We only ended up staying out on the boat for two hours but the sun had set and I was perfectly happy to head in. Mr. Theap greeted me at the dock, at which point I realized that he had really only planned for us to be out for two hours, even though he kept repeating "tree owa" before I left. I found his whole scam rather entertaining. As far as I was concerned, the joke was on him. He led me to a restaurant on the beach and threw all my live fish on a ready grill that was out on the sand. I ordered some fries and a beer and had myself a wonderful dinner.
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