Cambodia, a history lesson

Feb. 24, 2009

I'm back from watching this horrible documentary on the Pol Pot Regime. Though the subject matter in itself was horrific, the French-made film was of such such poor quality it was laughable, which makes it all even more depressing. That aside, the film offered a crash course in modern Cambodian history.

So from what I gathered, here's a brief history:

Cambodia broke free of colonial French rule in the mid 1950s and instated a then 19-year-old prince as king of the land. Prince Sihanouk kept the country stable for about 17 years, declaring it neutral during the American war with neighboring Vietnam. However, the North Vietnamese Army began smuggling in weapons through the jungles of northern Cambodia and parts of Laos leading President Nixon to begin a bombing campaign in those parts. Prince Sihanouk condemned the bombing, still maintaining Cambodia's neutrality to the war.

Then some stuff happened. The film narrator said it all so fast it was hard to follow. Lots of Cambodians were killed by American bombs. There was plenty of internal political strife in the country. Sihanouk retreated (or was forcibly taken, not really sure) to Beijing where he remained for several years as new leaders struggled for power. Among them was Communist-leaning Saloth Sar, later known as Pol Pot, who led an insurgency, the Khmer Rouge, under the Communist Party of Kampuchea (CPK). But it was American-backed General Lon Nol who formed a new government by coup.

During this time, the Khmer Rouge, which consisted mainly of boys 15 years of age and younger from villages around the country, were stepping up the pressure on Lol Non, aiming their attacks mainly at the capital in Phnom Pehn. Despite American air strikes on the insurgency, the Khmer Rouge managed to take over the capital.

Many rejoiced at the victory of the Khmer Rouge, but the celebration was short-lived. On the same day the insurgency did away with the Lol Non government, marching through the streets of Phnom Pehn, the new victors, young men all dressed in black, proclaimed that the city must be evacuated.

"Leave immediately," the Khmer Rouge officers said. "The Americans are planning to bomb the city. You will return in 3 to 4 days. Leave your doors opened. We will watch over your belongings."

From this point further, most of my history actually comes from Stay Alive, My Son, a first hand account by Pin Yathay of his own escape from the Killing Fields.

The city people were ordered to move onto farms set up by Pol Pot to begin a new type of society. It was based on ideals of simple villages, where the work of the individual is meant to benefit the whole community. It was supposed to be a completely egalitarian society, however the Khmer Rouge enforced this idea of equality by executing those who were seen as revolutionaries which included the doctors, the teachers, anyone learned, anyone seen as too strong, too self-righteous, too much of an individual. Thousands of people died during the evacuation, or later on the farms of disease or of starvation. Yathay saw more than a dozen members of his own family die before he and his wife made the decision to try to flee to Thailand, making the heartbreaking decision to leave their surviving six-year-old son behind.

(I'm realizing now this history lesson isn't as brief as I meant it to be. Cambodia has been fascinating to me, and I've only been here a day.)

To wrap up, the film stated that the Pol Pot regime self-destructed in 1979. The leaders enforced a massive wave of torture and execution fueled by internal paranoia which ended up diminishing the regime itself. The country then wallowed through a decade of occupation then by the Vietnamese. There was a mass exodus of Cambodians displaced by the Pol Pot Regime to Thailand. The international community at this point began to take notice of the situation and began relief efforts.

Then in 1991, the UN took over the situation instituting a cease-fire and the repopulation of the country. That's as far as I know. Some of this information, I have to admit, was aided by Wikipedia. Though the history listed on that site is much more thorough than mine, it's also notably pro-American slanted.

Anyway, wow. What a story. I came out of watching the documentary with my mind spinning, mostly because I was trying to figure out what the French filmmaker had said at all. But a walk down the bustling and brightly lit Pub Street in Siem Reap has spoken volumes as to how far the country has come since the UN came in just 17 years ago.

When I started on this trip, Cambodia was not even considered among the countries I wanted to visit. Granted, I knew very little about the place. Cambodia equaled land mine-zone to me. But this city is bustling with tourists. I know many young travelers who stated that Cambodia had been their favorite stop. And yet, I still must remind myself, I've only yet seen where the tourists go. Despite the new wealth here, there are street children and amputees everywhere.

Well, phew. This is the first time I've been inspired to write in a long time. This place must have struck some kind of chord in me.

Tomorrow I visit Ankhor Wat. That should make for some amazing photos. Unfortunately, my camera lens is broken. Six months of travel has taken its toll on my equipment. I can still take photos, but it's trickier now with a lens that doesn't open as wide as before, and no more auto-focus. Ahhh well...

Much more soon.

A hasty hello from Cambodia

Feb. 24, 2009

Hello from Siem Reap. I write this greeting with haste because in another fifteen minutes I'm off to watch a documentary on the Pol Pot Regime and the genocide that he oversaw in Cambodia during the mid to late 1970s.

I left the lovely, slow-paced country of Laos this morning taking a short flight from Pakse. It's hot here and quite dusty, a little reminiscent of some of the cities in northern India, though not nearly as frenetic or polluted. My initial impression of this city is that it is more modern than expected. The people so far have struck me as kind, much like the Laotians, though there is a distinctly higher level of pressure put on the tourists here by the tuk tuk drivers and the women selling goods in the market.

What is also striking is how young the population is. I have yet to see a local over the age of 35. According to American journalist Karen J. Coates in her moving book Cambodia Now, as of 2003 roughly 50% of the country's population was under the age of 19.

I'm off now to go watch this documentary and learn more about why that is the case.

The happy temple

Feb. 19, 2008

After returning to Chiang Mai from our three day jungle trek, Julie and I decided to spend a day exploring some of the sites around the city. We rented motorbikes and drove a windy 30 kilometers up Doi Suthep, the lush mountain that serves as the backdrop for the city, to the Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep itself.

The relic of the temple, a bone of the Buddha, was erected by a 12th century king who carried it on a white elephant. The place that the elephant stopped was where the king built the pagoda where the temple now stands.

I've seen many a wat since arriving in Thailand, and I have to say this one was by far my favorite. The place high on the hill overlooking the city of Chiang Mai is filled with positive energy. The place is filled with shining golden Buddhas and bells that glint in the sunlight. All the visitors, tourists and Thais alike, circle the place in placid though not dour deference. All the monks seemed to be smiling.

It was a place of holy happiness.

Most beautiful toilet

Feb. 17, 2009

The Sphinx, the Great Wall, the Taj Mahal are tokens compared to this gem we came across at Doi Inthenan in Thailand.

Thai jungle trek

Feb. 17, 2009

Two and a half weeks ago, Julie, my American friend, and I signed up for a three day, two night jungle trek. We were grouped together with two young German guys and spent the nights in local Karen villages high in the hills of Northern Thailand.

On the first day we visited Doi Inthenan, a stupa located at the highest point in Thailand at 2,142 meters. That's like a sand dune compared to the hills Julie and I climbed out of in Nepal. Nevertheless, the temple was gorgeous surrounded by blossoming gardens.

Later that afternoon, the four of us were led through the forest to a small village where the locals were finishing up their celebration of the Karen New Year. We all received simple string bracelets not to be removed for at least three days for good luck in the new year. So long as it doesn't get too dirty, mine will be stuck on me well passed the time that I come home to Connecticut. I still have a string bracelet I received during a Hindu blessing in Pushkar from back on Election Day. (I think the blessings of good luck and good health went to Barack Obama and not me that day as I was later laid out with a bad bout of food poisoning.)

The next morning, we headed out through the bamboo jungle passed waterfalls and through arid, terraced rice fields to go elephant riding. I felt bad for the creature, which lumbered slowly in the heat of the day. Julie and I agreed that riding in the back of a pickup truck to the launch point of our trek was far more exciting.

On our last day, which happened to be my 25h birthday, we were taken bamboo rafting. Local children sitting along the riversides washing elephants cheered and splashed us as we floated by.

It was a very cool and different way to celebrate a quarter century.

Travel dreams

Feb. 14, 2008

Oh my Buddha, what a month it's been. I have only a few minutes now to write anything as I'm waiting to board a bus to Vang Vieng from Luang Prabang.

I left northern Thailand five days ago via a two day boat ride down the Mekong into Laos. This is a slow-paced and pretty country that until only a decade ago relied entirely on the rivers here for all their transportation needs because no roads were laid in this part of the country until then. With China emerging as a major economy, however, modern highways have been built to link the economic giant with Thailand and other trading partners.

This little city I leave today is heavily influenced by French colonialism. The buildings along the main street Sisavangvong have French doors and shuttered windows with roofs in the Laos Buddhist style, pointed at the edges. Little cafes serve delicious thick Laos coffee and fresh authentic baguettes. This UNESCO World Heritage city is just entirely quaint.

I've had a lot on my mind in the past few weeks. For about a month, I was sort of dragging my feet, feeling overcome with road weariness and even guilt about spending all my money. I started thinking about coming home sooner than originally planned. But I got a burst of rejuvenation in northern Thailand after doing a three day jungle trek over my 25th birthday and then heading over into Laos by way of this gorgeous river which winds through jungles and gorges.

I've also received a job offer that would take me back to Europe. Back in October I stopped off in this hostel, The Pink Palace, on the Greek Island of Corfu on my way to Istanbul. One hazy evening there after sidling up to the bar and taking over the music selection in an attempt to avoid dealing with an annoying Canadian, I was tentatively offered a job as the DJ's assistant in the upcoming high season. At the time, I just took it as an empty offer, inspired by ouzo. However, six weeks ago, the DJ got in touch with me via Facebook and said the job is mine if I want it.

Looking at the situation at home and talking to my parents and friends, it seems like staying abroad for a little longer and waiting out this financial crisis might not be a bad idea. So now I'm trying to maneuver this giant U-Turn that will take me back to Europe in two months time. Ideally, I'd like to make a real adventure out of it, flying to Hong Kong and then making my up to Beijing where I'd hop on the TransManchurian Express for a six day train journey into Russia. Then I'd fly from Moscow or St. Petersberg into Moscow. It would be a lot of hard miles, but I think it would also bring this trip to a whole new level.

Oh boy, my bus is here in two minutes. I must run. Farewell Luang Prabang. Hello Vang Vieng.

Three countries, one day

Feb. 3, 2009

Time has flown since I arrived in Thailand on January 4. Sleepless overnight bus trips and nights on the islands that stretched into the next morning left me tumbling through each day. When I returned to Bangkok to meet up with Julie, my sense of time and place seemed warped. My journal from that time is filled with an attempted recollection about the days on the islands, but it amounts to little more than this:

Jan. 7 - Jan. 22: Left BKK, arrived Ko Phan Nang and painted myself in day glo to attend jungle trance party and Full Moon Party, hung out for two days in Krabi, met some Brits in Ko Lanta, hung out in a tree house with some Thai Rastafarians, drank buckets, went to Ko Phi Phi, met Aussies and Canadians at a hostel called the Rock, drank buckets, partied, saw a shark, painted others in day glo, partied, lost 600 baht at sea, ate banana chocolate pancake, partied.

There's also some other stuff in there about a half-naked, leaping Australian, but that story (like so many others) will be saved for the book.

Anyway, as I said, time flew and suddenly I only had a few days left on my visa. On January 1 of this year, the new Thai government changed some of the tourist visa rules. To extend my visa in the country, I would have to pay about $50 and would only get seven days added on. However, if I left the country and returned by land, I could get two extra weeks for only the cost of transportation and the fee for the other country.

Julie and I were bound for Chiang Mai, a city in the mountains of northern Thailand. We were planning to do a lot in the north country. We had a jungle trek scheduled and wanted to take Thai cooking lessons and look into a short meditation course. If I wanted to stick around town, I had to make a visa run.

I booked a day trip to Burma through a company that also offered some sightseeing along the way.

I left early on the morning of Jan. 28th. Our first stop was to a hot spring near Chiang Rai. It was a complete tourist trap. There was a big, boiling natural fountain in the middle of a parking lot encircled by chintzy souvenir shops. The highlight of that stop was boiling an egg in the spring.

Next we headed to a pagoda in the old city of Chiang Rai. There I learned the difference between a pagoda and a stupa. Both are holy Buddhist structures, though a stupa normally holds the bones of a monk or members of the royal family, whereas a pagoda is larger and contains fragments of the bones of the Buddha or the king or queen.

Our next stop was to the Golden Triangle, where the borders of Thailand, Laos and Myanmar all converge along the Mekong River. The area used to be known for its intense opium trade. Drug dealers used gold to change instead of fumbling around with the different currencies of the three neighboring countries.

We took a boat trip across the Mekong to the Laotian shore to visit a small village which was also just a big tourist trap. There were Canadians walking around the village with life-jackets on like they were expecting the river to suddenly recede and then surge with the force of a tsunami.

The stores in the village offered much of the same jewelry, T-shirts and souvenirs you can find in Bangkok, though they also sold really cheap cigarettes and python whiskey. (See photos). That was pretty cool.

After spending 30 minutes in Laos, we returned to the Thai side of the river and headed up to the Myanmar border where our guide took myself and two French Canadians across to get our visas extended. I enjoyed my stay in Burma, all five minutes of it.

Our last stop was to a Karen Longneck village. The women in these villages wear loops of silver wrapped around their necks and knees. The purpose, our guide told us, is to protect the women from tiger attacks and snake bites. It all just seemed like blatant subjugation of the women to me.

The women sat in their huts not speaking, staring out at us tourists like listless caged animals in the zoo. The whole scene made me uncomfortable. I snapped a few photos before retreating to the van where I waited until we left to head back to Chiang Mai.

I was exhausted. It was a long day running across the borders of three different countries. I was ready for some down time in the city.

The Grand Palace

Feb. 3, 2009

I crammed in some more culture during a visit to the Grand Palace in Bangkok. It was big and sparkly.

I'm feeling lazy on the writing front, so here's the Wiki entry on the place:

The Grand Palace (Thai: พระบรมมหาราชวัง, Phra Borom Maha Ratcha Wang) is a complex of buildings in Bangkok, Thailand. It served as the official residence of the Kings of Thailand from the 18th century onwards. Construction of the Palace began in 1782, during the reign of King Rama I, when he moved the capital across the river from Thonburi to Bangkok. The Palace has been constantly expanded and many additional structures were added over time. The present King of Thailand; King Rama IX, however does not currently reside there but at the Chitralada Palace.

The Palace is however still very much in use; as many royal rituals are performed here by the King every year. Other royal ceremonies celebrated here are coronations; royal funerals, marriages and state banquets. The Palace grounds also contain the offices and buildings of the Bureau of the Royal Household, the Office of the Private Secretary to the King and Royal Institute of Thailand.

Cool. It made for more pretty pictures which, as we all know, speak a thousand words, give or take.

Is it obvious that I'm getting palaced and templed out?

Wat culture?

Feb. 3, 2009

After several hazy weeks in the islands, I retreated back north to Bangkok to reconnect with my friend Julie, an American I met while trekking in Nepal in December. She had flown in from Delhi and was supposed to meet me in the islands but got stuck in the Thai capital after coming down with a walking flu.

I arrived in Bangkok with my tail between my legs, baked by the sun and borderline brain dead from too much bucket diving. I needed some detox. I needed some culture.

Julie and I joined up with two of her friends who she met while volunteering in Nepal, Martha, from Columbia, and Haley from Nova Scotia, Canada. The four of us spent an afternoon at the Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn located on the bank of the Chao Phraya River in the Thon Buri section of the city. The Thai Buddhist temple is an impressive sight, its facade completely constructed of seashells and crushed pieces of china.

Pretty pictures are about all I got out of the experience. I spent half an hour by myself sitting on a green patch of grass near the temple staring into space. My brain needed a bit of a rest.

Drunk monkey

Feb. 3, 2008

Even the monkeys like to party on Ko Phi Phi.

Playing with fire

Feb. 3, 2009

Ko Phi Phi is an island of lethal beauty. Warm water the color and clarity of blue diamonds laps up against soft ivory beaches where bronzed Venuses and Adonises lie out under the southern Thai sun.

In the town, bars advertise cheap drink deals, wet T-shirt contests and Maui Thai boxing. The Kings of Leon's single Sex on Fire is on constant rotation in every other restaurant. Anyone wearing more than a swimsuit is overdressed.

People show their daring by leaping off 65 foot cliffs, or by battling their buddies in the boxing ring to win free vodka buckets. Grown men fight off nausea and tears as they get bamboo tattoos or when they find out through a hungover haze that they spent most of the night before with a ladyboy.

The Ibiza Bar hosts a nightly party on the beach pumping electro and hip hop as people dance and mingle wriggling up to one another under neon lighted palm trees. Poi dancing and Thai Fire Limbo is often on the schedule of activities for the night.

Everyone on this island is playing with fire in one way or another. Leave your inhibitions, hang ups and emotional sensitivities on the mainland. Otherwise you may get burned.