It’s four am, somewhere between Wednesday and Thursday. I throw a pile of clothes into my backpack and run out the door. Steph’s tour of S.E. Asia begins. First stop: Cambodia.
To get into most countries, you need a visa. In the Kingdom of Cambodia, twenty-five dollars will get you through the door.
My friend Geoff picked me up at the airport with his driver, Mr. T. Geoff and I went to GW together—in fact, we almost got married once, but that’s another story. Now Geoff is a free-lance journalist based in Cambodia. I was very lucky to be able to visit a friend who knows and understands the country and its history so well.
Mr. T drives a tuk-tuk. A tuk-tuk (see photo) is a cart attached to a moped. Kind of like a motorized chariot (or rather, a horse and buggy without the horse!). Mr. T took us back to Geoff’s place, which is just as nice as my apartment in Singapore, but he’s paying $150/month, whereas I’m paying four times as much. It takes three stories of spiral staircases to get to his apartment, which in itself is two floors (one of which he shares with his roommate, a travel writer for National Geographic)—a bitch to climb, but well worth it when you see the view from his roof (see photo).
Now let me take this opportunity to talk about currency in Cambodia. American money is as good as gold here. In fact, it is the preferred method of exchange. Cambodian money is the Riel, but if you go to a money-changer or an ATM, you can only get the American dollar. This blows my mind, because there are so few Americans in Cambodia, but I guess the dollar is so strong and the Riel is so weak in Asia. And what’s even more confusing is, you can mix the Riel and the Dollar. Often times you’ll pay with American and get your change in Riels, or you can pay in both, but Riels won’t get you very far. 2000 Riels = $0.50 and the highest Riel bill I saw was 10,000. This is what some academics might call postmodernism—cultures colliding into one. Consider this: a French guy comes to Cambodia, has to change his francs to American dollars in order to spend money, getting change in Cambodian Riels, in the country that the French originally colonized. Actually, throw on top of that, the French now use Euros, which is universally European money that he must exchange for American dollars while in S.E Aisa… etc. etc. We truly live in a global society. It was weird enough for me to bring Sing money to Cambodia only to see American money for the first time since leaving home.
After dropping my stuff off at Geoff’s apartment, Mr. T drove us to Geoff’s favorite place for breakfast, where we ate Pho—beef noodle soup—a traditional Cambodian dish. I got so excited when I saw that beer was only $1.00, that I ordered a local beer, Angkor, forgetting that it was only 10am. (I had been up since 4am, it felt like at least mid afternoon!)
Skipping ahead to lunch—we went to a traditional Cambodian place, but traditional as in royal family traditional, where you sit on silk pillows on the floor to eat. There I drank coconut juice out of a giant coconut. (See photo.)
Now, Cambodia is essentially the exact opposite of Singapore—it was the perfect contrast: a much less developed place, where almost no rules apply. The rules of the road are essentially non-existent. You really feel this while riding on the back of a moped—which, in the absence of Mr. T, that’s the most accessible mode of transportation. Moped drivers are on every street corner just waiting to take you somewhere for a couple of thousand Riels. And it’s quite exhilarating—terrifying, but exhilarating. Isn’t fearing for your life at high speeds what exhilaration is all about? Especially when the wind is blowing in your hair. But I’ll tell you, with traffic going in all directions, and lanes being an anomaly—my mom would have a heart attack on one of these things. I can just imagine her shrieking as the driver goes full speed into head on traffic.
Our night on the town took us to some of Geoff’s favorite places---a Mexican restaurant (which is where the post-modern conversation began); the FCC (the foreign correspondent’s club, where all the expat journalists hang out); a bar which overlooked water… and then Geoff showed me the seedier side of town, which I was interested in seeing. (When in Rome, right?) He took me to a couple of “Gentleman’s Clubs,” which are rampant in Cambodia and elsewhere around S.E. Asia. The first one consisted of mostly Cambodian women, the second, Filipino. (See photo.) We noted an advertisement in one of the clubs that asked for donations “to save Cambodian children”—this was a philanthropic brothel. The girls were very confused as to my presence in this place. I stuck to my story that I had a twenty-six year old boyfriend in Singapore—it seemed only logical. It was interesting to talk to these women, most of whom admitted to not being quite happy with their employment. At the second “Gentleman’s club” we played pool with two Filipinos, and it was actually quite fun---but maybe it was just the alcohol kicking in. Next we went to a Karaoke bar, Carol King, where we drank Tiger Beers on the house and ate watermelon and sang and sang and sang til our hearts content. The owner was so thrilled to have Geoff there. He said, “Mr. Geoffrey, you are my friend, I did okay tonight. You don’t have to pay, because you are my friend. You come back again.” (See photos of Mr. Geoffrey/ Mr. owner’s duet).
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