There's a lot of grinding poverty outside the "nice" parts of town, and the roading and sewerage infrastructure is woefully inadequate. I don't get the same good vibes from PP as I did from the Vietnamese cities - I feel just a bit more on edge here - not quite as relaxed. Part of it is the much greater difference between rich and poor. Word has it that the graft and corruption help the rich get richer, while the poor remain as poverty stricken as ever. A major difference from neighbouring Vietnam.
But to get here. Fi, Michael (US Peace Corps girl), Rachael (VSA volunteer working with Fi) and two REDA boys all need to get to PP on Friday morning. We share a taxi (no - there's no bus service as one might expect), and start the two hour journey up the main drag to PP.
Uneventful trip as I chat away to Rachael, but curiously we need to get on a car ferry to cross the Mekong. A simple bridge would do the trick here, but Cambodia clearly doesn't have the funds to build one yet. And this is the main highway from Phnom Penh to Vietnam!
We say good bye to Michael & Rachael, check in to a very Cambodian hotel a bit away from the tourist part of town, and grab a tuk tuk (moto pulling a covered trailer that can take up to six people) to the National Museum - Fi's keen to show the boys some of Cambodia's treasures from the past. Interesting of course, but statues and artefacts in display cases don't do a lot for me. In fact we're all much happier outside in the courtyard looking at the fish ponds.
Now a more harrowing encounter with Cambodia's recent past, with a 15km trip out of town to the killing fields at Choeung Ek. Thousands of prisoners were brought here during Pol Pot's ruthless genocidal regime in the late seventies where they were bludgeoned to death (to save on bullets) and thrown into an array of pits.
Even children, who'd had the misfortune to be born into an educated family, were brutally murdered here. All were wiped out in a misguided attempt to achieve a "Great leap forward" in socialism. What happened was a great leap backwards to the stone age, from which Cambodia is still struggling to extricate itself.
The stupa (Buddhist monument) erected to commemorate the dead looks out over the pits. On arrival we place an incense stick at the entrance and proceed inside, to be confronted by hundreds of skulls...
More disturbing is the realisation that this is just one shelf. As you cast your eyes up, the gruesome scene is repeated, shelf after shelf after shelf.
It's a very sobering experience walking around the pits and the killing trees.
More so when you look down at the path - yes those are human bones I'm walking on.
We return to the hotel, reflecting on why such atrocities had to happen - over two million people were killed during Pol Pot's reign of terror. Unless you were a peasant or factory worker blindly following the Khmer Rouge doctrine you were exterminated. Please may the 21st century be more enlightened than the last.
On a lighter note, readers will be delighted to know there's an excellent brand of bottled drinking water available in Cambodia.
Though the slogan is a worry. "Steve - the quality drops" could do with a bit of rework!
We meet up with a couple of Fi's friends for dinner - and choose a German restaurant of all places. But at least they have a dark Ankor beer - the first I've found. Not bad - similar to a Black Mac.
Saturday morning and I do battle with the shower. What is it with Cambodians? The detachable shower head is wall-mounted about a metre above the bath - perfect for a three year old. Anyone bigger has to hold the nozzle while showering and soaping down - finishing quickly before the meagre supply of hot water runs out. A towel rail? You want a towel rail in a bathroom?? Whatever for? I pick my towel up off the adjacent toilet seat. And don't even think of checking your appearance in the mirror - there isn't one.
We head out to Wat Toul Tompong to visit Fi's friend Simpat - a Buddhist monk, and he's good enough to show us his dorm room, and around the temple. I'm a little surprised - I thought monks were ascetic and didn't have any possessions - but Simpat has quite a bit of stuff in his room, including a computer. Fi explains that monks are quite well off in Cambodia.
Wat Toul Tompong's a magnificent temple, and we're privileged to be allowed inside where tourists never go.
I say good bye to Fi and the boys at this point - they're returning to SR by taxi while I stay on for another day.
First stop is the nearby Russian Market, but it does nothing for me and I head for the next sombre point on my itinerary - the Toul Sleng museum. Toul Sleng, or S-21, was once a school until it was converted into a prison by the Pol Pot regime.
I arrive in time for a one hour documentary - the heartbreaking story of a couple who had just married when they were separated, with the wife taken to the countryside. We hear the letters they wrote one another as they progressively lost hope of ever seeing each other again. Eventually, she was murdered in the fields where she worked, while he was taken to S-21.
Just like the Nazis, the Khmer Rouge were meticulous at recording the thousands who came through the prison to be tortured and subsequently executed at the killing fields. Only a handful of prisoners who entered S-21 survived. The images, as usual, are disturbing.
Row after row of faces - some quizzical, some sombre, some terrified. Worse are the images of the children. Innocents who have no idea of the cruel fate to befall them.
I wander around the areas where prisoners were imprisoned and tortured horrifically. Why do I choose to come here? Surely travel and tourism should focus on having a good time?
Yes and no - there are plenty of opportunities for the fun aspects - but countering that are the deep emotional moments that shape your thinking for the future.
But moving on.
My gut starts to pinch and rumble as (I think) last night's dinner makes itself known as an imminent LBM. I head for the toilets and sink down with relief in the nick of time, only to discover a complete absence of toilet paper. I acquaint myself with the little hose attached to the cistern, and find it's not too bad. Ok, ok - enough of Steve's toilet experiences around Asia!
I wander over to the tourist shop wondering what on earth they can sell in this place as a souvenir, and to my surprise find a remarkably good Cambodian paper knife. I debate the morality of buying a knife in this place, but figure it's a fitting memento. Another for my collection - and definitely Khmer.
It's a long hike across town to the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, but it's worth a look. The palace is opulent - a stark contrast to the poverty outside just a few metres away. The pagoda too seems out of place with jewel-encrusted gold and jade Buddhas, and a solid silver floor.
More interesting is the walk along the riverfront, where I finally get a better appreciation of Phnom Penh as a river city.
Which brings me to the Post Office (no postcards to be bought), and Wat Phnom - the founding temple of Phnom Penh. First time I've come across monkeys too.
Wat Phnom is a great little temple.
Sitting on the hill overlooking the new American Embassy, it's a lot more austere and down to earth than the Silver Pagoda - much more in keeping with the people for whom it provides spiritual guidance.
I make my way back to my hotel and manage to run a 3cm bath before the hot water runs out. No worries - tomorrow morning I'll wash my top half.
The trip back to Svay Reing is a bit of a mission. Easy getting to the Olympic Markets from where the taxis leave, but I sit in my minivan for an hour before it finally fills up with passengers and goods. Air conditioning? Of course - that's what happens when you open the windows.
I choose the best seat on the shady side with lots of legroom. Then someone arrives with a brand new moto - yup - into the van and its front wheel is shoved between my legs. I quickly change to the seat beside me before anyone else grabs it. It's a dusty trip back - a lot of the road is under reconstruction, and the dust is terrible. The task of watering the road to aid compaction and reduce dust clearly isn't in the scope of this project!
We get through the roadworks and are finally barreling along at 80k making up time when suddenly the van screeches to a halt. Four guys get out and calmly relieve themselves on the roadside in full view of our one female passenger before we continue. Not unusual in either Vietnam or Cambodia - the absence of public toilets I guess. It's pretty basic here.
At the ferry vendors surround us offering everything from bread, fruit, gum, drinks and shrimps. I pass on the shrimps carried on this lady's head in the hot sun - I can smell them before I can see them.
Svay Reing finally comes in to view, and having sat on my bum all morning decide to walk the 15 minutes to Fi's house. Good to be back "home".
All of Fi's friends are lovely, and I can tell she's sad to leave as she does her final pack. They're very complimentary to me too - apparently I'm very young and pretty. I guess I'll take that as a compliment!
Tomorrow Fi and I leave SR permanently, and after stashing her luggage at VSA in PP, we'll head to the south coast for a bit of time at the Bokor National Park, and a sandy tropical island off Kep. I think I'll enjoy this Cambodian experience a lot more than my time in PP.
1 comment:
Hi Steve,
Great to see fi and the children and to hear more about your interesting adventures.It must have been hard looking at the skulls and killing tree - I don't think I could bear it.The temples are beautiful. Keep up the good work.Love, Jan .
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