Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow: Goodbye Cambodia

I’ve entered the last two months of this leg of my trip.  I fly to New York on May 11th and Back to Canada on the 19th.  I’m honestly excited for that, but it also means I’ve been kicking up the speed of my travels to cover my ground.  As plans stand I don’t think I’ll be in South East Asia again for several years at least, and there’s so much left to see, that’s why after getting lost in Laos and losing track of time I was left with just 9 full days in Cambodia.  It wasn’t anywhere near enough time for what is a fascinating and varied country but I still managed to find myself having a great time.

It began with a bus journey which was far from fun.  Probably the most exhausting one since leaving Nepal, leaving paradise in the 4000 islands and embarking on what ended up being a 15 hour journey through some rough roads to Phnom Penh.  The border between the two countries is legendary for it’s scams and crime, and hellish nature, I was surprised because everything was smooth and nice when I got there.  Once again I learned that nothing is as bad as the internet says it is.  (Keep that in mind when travelling)

That said the next 8 or so hours was on more dirt road then paved, and with a backdoor that didn’t close right we were all soon coughing and breathing in a lot of dust, still we made it to Phnom Penh in one piece and I got myself checked in to the lovely hostel Nomads just before midnight.  Normally I don’t need A.C. on my travels but Cambodia in March was an exception and it quickly became my best friend.  35-40 degrees in a city is just uncomfortably hot and I took to splitting the day in half siesta style.  Instead of sleeping though I spent the time developing the wider world of my new book in detail, even drawing out maps and coming up with histories.  It’s been a rewarding week that way and helps ground me in the world immensely.

Day 2 in Cambodia was one to remember and a hard one to take too.  I spent the first half of the day going to The Killing Fields and the S-21 Prison which has been converted into a museum.  I went with a fellow Canadian I’d met at the hostel to keep tuk-tuk costs down but we didn’t actually talk that much.  The atmosphere and experience prompted quiet reflection more than anything, and left me with a lot of sadness and confusion, in terrified awe of the things we are capable of.

The killing fields is one of the few places where you need to do the audio tour, luckily it’s included in the cost.  I learned a lot about Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge and the genocide they carried out in the late 1970’s.  It was a hard thing to learn about and walking through one of the mass execution sites as you did it was an otherworldly experience.  The contrast of the peaceful fields full of cool breezes, chirping songbirds, and beautiful small lakes, and the knowledge of the mass murders that were carried out here marked by fragments of bone and torn cloth on the ground served to unsettle every part of me.  The audio tour and the signage and attitude at the sights were both very respectful and well done and yet still I found myself needing to sit down and recover a few times during the visit.  It’s hard to fathom what these people lived through and from what I can tell the worlds response was non existent.  They must have felt utterly abandoned and alone.

From the Killing fields our tuk-tuk drove us over rough roads past the countless waving and grinning kids to the S-21 torture prison, another grim yet important experience.  The prison was actually in what had once been a high school which was hard to take.  Much like Pol Pot was a teacher and yet wanted to eliminate all teachers, intellectuals and countless other people to return the country to “year zero”.  It was hard to see a place that should have been full of learning and kids turned into a place of torture and death.  Countless tiny cells and torture devices filled everything, and the museum portion of the building held pictures of each prisoner who came to the prison.  Of the thousands who transited through the prison only 7 survived.  7 people of about 10,000, and this was only one of several prisons.

As I was leaving the prison I noticed an old man sat in a chair behind a small table of books and figured out he was actually one of the 7 who survived the prison.  I ended up buying his book, sharing a few words and smiles with him, and taking a picture with him too.  He only survived because he was a mechanic who the guards used to fix the typewriters they used to record prisoners false and ridiculous confessions.  I can’t imagine what this man has lived through, and what he felt when the nightmare ended with him still alive.  If I were in his shoes I’d be obsessed with the question of why I was left alive when so many others died.  Regardless meeting him was a humbling experience.

A survivor
A survivor

That night I found Vanilla Coke in a tiny convenient store called Golden mart, and other very different, yet still humbling experience.

The next morning I woke up to some more modern issues of Cambodia.  Just outside my hostel in the park I found a massive protest.  Thousands of garment workers gathered to search for higher wages and better living conditions.  This happening off to my right surprised me, when I looked to my left and saw about 1500 police officers lined up in full riot gear shocked me more.  I thought about joining the protest but then had some common sense, snapped a few pictures and headed off to a different part of the city.  Probably wise since while this one ended peacefully 4 people were shot in january in the same place for the same reason.

From Phnom Penh  I headed north west to Siem Reap and the world famous temples of Angkor.  It was too bad I came when it is so absurdly hot because it made the temples a trying experience.  Still well worth while though, and very inspirational for writing, wandering through the jungles and ancient ruins was pretty magical.

Another lesson of travelling was re learned here.  Basically people are lazy and stay almost exclusively on the beaten path.  I managed to find myself alone for a full half hour wandering through jungle and past some of the smaller temples without seeing another soul.  Only though this whole area was only a few minutes walk from the very crowded temple of Bayon.  (The one with all the huge faces.)  Anyway I’m running out of time to finish writing this so we’l let pictures tell the tale.

I’m now back in Bangkok, enjoying some western comforts and getting my visa for Myanmar.  The bus ride here was another unpleasant 13 hour long journey mostly in a minivan but I made it safely and am enjoying feeling at home in Bangkok.  Bye Bye for now.

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