After a long couple of days of activity, we were ready to explore town a bit, and find a good dinner. There were plenty of tuk-tuk drivers ready to take us from our airport road hotel, a ride of about 5-10 minutes. $3.00, not bad! Our driver told us we should be visiting "Pub Street" - that's where all the tourists go. Aptly named, this area was a few blocks worth of bars, cafes, shops, and great small eateries. Free wireless internet service was abundant.
At the upper left of this Pub Street shot, notice the ad for "Free Apsara Dancing" - Neil Gaiman fans, maybe the gods are still here after all...enjoying the air conditioning.
Fish pedicure opportunities were everywhere. This photo is from National Geographic, a wonderful shot that captured exactly what we saw. Musicians playing for change to support families devastated by UXO explosions were juxtaposed with these Americans, Australians and Europeans who still had their feet.
Garra Rufa fish in tanks nibble the dead skin off of one's feet, a delicate massage that feels great after you get over the tickles. There was a free pond of these little guys at our friends' hotel, and I tried it. Tickles like crazy, and the laughter makes you feel as good as the massage.
The streets were jammed with motorbikes and tourists strolling around through the alleys. We had an excellent meal, and walked over to the Night Market across the river.
The Night Market area here looks newly built, and has much more expensive shops - we knew we'd come back the next day to compare prices with the older Psar Chaa market.
Being very close to Chinese New Year now, there were many Asian young people exploring Cambodia. Many of them sported expensive shoes and handbags, and we were all targeted by the people begging at the open restaurants. The gulf between people here seems not to be so much an East/West division, but about poverty and wealth, and about whether one has lived through the war, or never experienced that particular hell.
"Siem Reap" is "Siam Defeated" in the Khmer language. Named after a Khmer victory against the Thai in the 1600s, Siem Reap is the gateway city to Angkor Wat, and it's just north of the immense Tonle Sap Lake, the largest freshwater lake in Southeast Asia. The French colonial influence is clear here. Great cuisine, colonial homes and hotels, and a pleasant river-front market make this town attractive to tourists world wide, now that war has ended.
Coming back the next day, we explored the market area downtown. Here, folks hanging out on the shady bridge over the Siem Reap River.Several foot bridges take you across from the old Psar Chaa market to the new Night Market with more upscale shops.
Inside the huge Psar Chaa market, a warren of stalls under a warehouse-like ceiling, we saw... stuff. Lots of it. Trinkets of ceramic, wind chimes, pots of every kind, hats, clothing, handbags, jewelry, housewares... you could live in there for a year on about a hundred dollars. Because this was a food market too; meat, vegetables, bread, you name it.
The smell in here was a bit overwhelming. We were not tempted to try this food, not even a little bit. I'm sure, with enough antibodies, we would be fine, but I think we'd have to live here for a while.
Jules was on the lookout for a gold chain for her daughter. The gold and gem business was doing well here in the market - we found a whole wing devoted to gold, gemstones and silver. We didn't know enough to be sure what was good quality and what wasn't, but certainly the prices were generally a LOT lower than anything in the West. Here is the woman who fixed the gold chain to the right length.
Time to get the heck out of here, and find the sunlight again! We didn't want to have to buy more suitcases to bring home more stuff! I don't think Jules bought the hat, but the Euro fellow did.
Strolling around the river area, we saw the most amazing variety of life in Siem Reap.
Construction was taking place, roads were paved, banks and hotels and restaurants were springing up along the wider streets. There are some wider boulevards, French influenced, which give these areas a peaceful, roomy feel.
And then there are the shops along the road where manufacturing is taking place. If the tag in your shirt says "Made in Cambodia", it could come from one of these shops. These young men and women were working long hours. We'd see them sewing away in the morning, and the shop would still be open at 9:00 PM when we rolled home.
Families combined work and play - these were some proud parents!
Here are a couple of photos of food on the street - nuts here. I remember betel nut being chewed by so many people in Laos back in the day, but I didn't see so much of it now. I'm not sure what kind of nuts these were.
And whatever this was on the roaster (a pig?) it didn't run fast enough...
Some of our ASV alumni had also made the journey to Cambodia. Jack and Kathy, Jill, and Karen were here as well. Karen was housed in our hotel on the airport road, while the others had a really swell place in town by the river. It had an excellent restaurant, and we gathered for a great dinner there before our last big day in Cambodia.
Jack was planning to rise at O Dark Thirty to go birding at the Prek Toal Bird Sanctuary, an important breeding ground for large water birds at Tonle Sap Lake. Jules and I will go to Chong Kneas, a floating village at Tonle Sap not far from Siem Reap.
But first, we celebrated being here!
The Cambodian Real - dollars usually worked well too, with Reals for the "change", since they were worth less than a dollar.
Tomorrow, on to the Floating Village, where this meal became a distant dream.
The title is a quote from Jeff Johnson, in the documentary 180 South. If you haven't seen it, it's the ultimate adventure story.
So, of course, something did go wrong. The sun was now slanting glowingly through the trees, quite beautiful really, except that this told us we were late getting going on the return journey. Another 15 km back to Siem Reap.
And my bike had a flat - no spare tube, no pump, no patch. Next time, I know what to bring.
Chan Mol had friends at Roluos, and we had a quick rescue. Just a short distance to the roadside bike fixer's house. Here's the young man who did the repairs. Older than he looks, he's 12.
The cost? One dollar. We bought bottles of water also, trying to spend more to justify all the help we were getting.
While we waited for the new tube to be installed, Jules took the time to record Chan Mol's story of the war years. He believes he was born in 1979, which would make him now 33 years old. This seems about right. He has been working a lot, supporting several younger siblings to keep them in school as well.
When he was around 13, while Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge army was fighting a running battle with the Vietnamese, Chan Mol remembers his father and the other village men taking the 50 head of cattle to pasture, moving them from one grazing spot to another. One day, the men heard gunfire and artillery exploding near their village. The fathers went back to the village to try to help, instructing the older boys to stay out with the cattle, away from danger.
The children hid in the jungle. They had no food or water, and after a night out, they went to a friend's farm where there was some corn. They had been told by the men to stay out, and wait for the fathers to come out to get them. The armed factions had been placing landmines all through the area for many years, and the men were worried that the kids would hit them trying to return on their own.
Finally, the men came out and found the kids and cattle. They all went back to the village, now that the soldiers had left. The men sent the cattle first, and stepped carefully in the cow's tracks. Roads were especially dangerous, and not all the cattle made it.
Gathering firewood was the most dangerous of all tasks in the village due to the landmines and other unexploded ordinance.
The village had caves nearby to hide in when bombs or shelling threatened. During some months, Chan Mol remembers not being allowed to go to school, or help his father outside the village with the cattle, but had to stay in these makeshift bunkers with the women.
Chan Mol was happy to talk about these things, but when we asked if he has had to tell this to many tourists, he said that tourists don't usually ask.
And then, my bike repaired, we hit the road again.
First, we took a look at some of the shops outside the Roluos ruins. Here craftsmen and women are creating masks and puppets from leather that are sold at Angkor. The tourism industry has created many jobs in this, and a lot of people with disabilities are creating art.
A scale model of Angkor Wat, on display to walk around and check out.
Whole families are working on leather crafts, first drawing the designs and then punching the leather with holes along the lines. These become Shadow Puppets, and other designs.
As we pedaled back in the early evening light, we saw several games of volleyball going on. Chan Mol said this sport is really catching on in Cambodia. It takes only a net, a ball, and a little flat land, and maybe a few beers.
It was just about full on dark when we got back to Siem Reap. And it seemed like we took a new route in - it took forever. We wound quickly through many streets, filling up with streams of cars, tuk-tuks, motorcycles, other bikes, and buses spewing exhaust fumes. Nobody ever stopped, and traffic lights were largely ignored. Nobody ever went really fast, either, thank goodness. At one point, almost to the bike shed, we had to cross about 6 lanes of traffic. There was no crosswalk, and so we learned the technique we called "Rock in the River". We had Chan Mol upstream, then Jules and I. We crept slowly into the moving traffic, heading diagonally a little downstream and toward the opposite "shore". As long as we never stopped, the traffic would just part around us as we moved. We stayed predictable, and everyone knew how to handle our little bike raft.
This long day at Roluos didn't end here. After thanking Chan Mol for an unforgettable, incredible day, we got cleaned up and went to town. Time to find some dinner, a beer, and a fish pedicure!
Jules and I both have a desire to get off the beaten track whenever possible. Lloyd got us booked on a really different kind of sight-seeing tour; the two of us, with one guide, on bikes, riding out of Siem Reap about 15 kilometres to the Roluos Group.
This is the site of the first Khmer capital, dating to around 875 AD. It's outside of the more well-known Angkor area, and although you can get here by bus, it's far more fun to ride.
Our small van from the hotel took us to this non-descript yard with a large shed in back. Opening the shed, our guide helped us select our steeds for the day - brand spankin' new Specialized Hardrock mountain bikes.
And we're off! Chan Mol, our guide, took us through the outskirts of Siemp Reap onto the red dirt roads of the countryside. We passed by school kids on their way back to school from their lunch breaks, and Chan Mol explained that many of these kids are orphaned. The government and the U.N. are trying to support them with aid and education, but it's a struggle.
It was wonderful to breathe the fresh air outside the city. And the feel of this more rural village and farm land was so much like the old Laos I remembered around Vientiane, I felt right at home. Tension melted away, replaced with joy in the return of life's rhythm. The ditches enabled at least two rice harvests a year here, and many people are getting enough to eat. There are many new jobs, and new construction evident. Chan Mol says there is now a real feeling of hope - I think it's fragile, and certainly nobody seems to hold much faith in the myriad political parties, but "normal" life is a welcome gift.
The old woman warned us. We stopped for a water break, and as we applied more sunscreen and insect spray, she talked to Chan Mol about our questionable actions. Translated, she said: "That goopy stuff you are putting on your skin is going to be a mistake."
She was right. In short order, we were coated in a thick layer of red dust. It was a day when you just have to stop thinking about sweat, dirt, and chemical goopey stuff.
Perfect weather, idyllic scene - and every half-mile or so, we'd see a different political party sign. Chan Mol seems to think it's not really going to make much difference who wins - they are all well-meaning, but what we call "bribery" or "corruption" is common. It's just the way the world works. People are resigned to this, and it does seem a small issue compared to gaining peace.
The local gas station. Whiskey bottles are used for measuring litres of petrol. There was also a compressor for tires here, and soda in a cooler.
The white Brahma oxen were unchanged from 40 years before. At one point, we steered our bikes around a herd of them being guided down the road. I was hoping Jules would know how to maneuver around them without spooking them, since she was ahead of me. I should never have doubted!
We came upon an open-air temple/gathering place for the community, with murals of Buddha's life and journeys. A bright spot along the road.
Typical road-side home. Under the stilted floor, the animals live. Chickens, goats, cattle, pigs take shelter from the sun during dry season.
Chan Mol described the process of rice growing, drying, and storing in these thatched "sheds".
This woman was probably in her 40's, and wrestling with this home-grown building material, used for roofing.
By this time, we were ready for a break. We'd been biking for a couple of hours at least, and the lunch spot was our oasis in the desert. Covered with red dust and sweat, we pretended we were just as presentable as the Europeans lunching next to us.
We kept going, and finally arrived at the Roluos Group of Khmer temple ruins.
This was a completely different experience from our day at Angkor Wat. Peaceful, free of tour buses and crowds, the sound of birds replaced the sound of motorbikes here. The ruins themselves are less groomed, with grass and native ornamental plants growing on nooks and crannies. Exquisite carvings made in 1100 years ago coexist with foliage, setting off the beauty of the artwork. Here, you can feel connected through that thousand years of time to the presence of the gods and the people who spent so many years worshiping them through art.
Roluos, Preah Ko, the Six Towers.
This temple was dedicated to Shiva, and means Sacred Bull. (Nandi, Shiva's mount) Hindu mythical creatures are carved here, and Garuda.
Chan Mol explained that the method of making cement to hold the layers of brick and carving stone together is quite advanced at Roluos. It's an older area than Angkor, and not all the skills transferred to the newer building north of Siem Reap.
We never learned where the rest of this god is; seems to have walked off without his toe-shoes.
The elephants on the temple of Bakong, 881 AD, originally dedicated to Shiva but later a place of Buddhist worship.
No signs told us about whether these doors really opened or not. More research to do...!
As we explored, and occasionally just sat and rested, we got to know our guide. Jules again was able to ask questions that I could not. One of Chan Mol's hands was missing some fingers. By this time, we all felt quite comfortable with one another, and we learned that he had lost his fingers in a wood-saw that he was running with his father. His father felt so guilty that this had happened (Chan Mol was in his early teens then, I think) that he promised his son that he would pay for him to go to school, so he would be able to have a way to make a living.
Chan Mol's older sister was at school, and it was expensive to go beyond the elementary level. So for Chan Mol to get to go too was quite a challenge for the family. Currently, he has gotten through secondary education, and is taking college level classes when he can, earning his way through by working as a guide. His English is really very good, and he was very happy to learn from us as well.
Chan Mol's mother wants him to get married and have a family. But he wants to wait until he can really support a family; and before his father died, he agreed with Chan Mol on that issue. So Mom has now accepted his decision, but not too happily!
Next, we learn about Chan Mol's survival during the last years of the war. And we learn the technique of surviving Siem Reap traffic in the dark, on a bike.
