We finished up our last post by talking about two weeks of nothing. Well, we finished up our two weeks of nothing with four days of Cambodaciousness. In Thailand, immigration policy is decided by the bi-weekly meetings of a highly secretive group of hooded soothsayers that draw policy decisions from the actions of a sacred squirrel named "freckles" that has been ceremoniously injected with PCP. Needless to say, the rules change often, seemingly erradically, and most people dont seem to have a clue as to what is actually correct at any given time. This was very evident when Marisa and I went to an immigration office in our district. My VISA was extended until February 28th (the last day of my work contract and thus the last day of my work permit) and Marisa was granted a piece of paper that seemed to extend her VISA (which was set to expire in 10 days) another ninety days. I was fully convinced that the little piece of paper was her golden ticket to 3 months in Thailand. She, being smarter than I, went to another VISA office on day nine after our visit to the first. There they told her that instead of getting deported the next day she could spend the same amount as a 90 VISA and get a 7 day extention (as per the rules as dictated by freckles). Marisa was also told that if she did what is known traditionally the more traditional "border run" (which is when you get on a bus, drive into Cambodia or Laos, use the restroom if you need to, then drive back into Thailand) she would only be granted another 7 days (so says freckles), BUT if she flew out of Thailand, and then flew back into Thailand, she would get a thirty-day VISA (all hail freckles in the complexity of his wisdom). While all of this was/is kinda lame and obstreperous, it did present us with a fantastic ultimatum. "Get Marisa deported and pay a lot of money" OR "take a sweet vacation!" As attractive an option as deportation was, Marisa and I talked it out and decided that a vacation would be better. So, Marisa did a lot of planning and searching and by 7:30 in the morning on saturday our plane was leaving BKK for Phnom Pehn, the capitol city of Cambodia.
Flying into Phnom Pehn was far different from flying into BKK. Actually, just traveling around in Cambodia was far different from Thailand. For one, when flying into the capitol I did not see any high rises, or even very many tall buildings at all. Granted, the airport is out of the capitol by 7 miles or so but even when we got into the city center there were no tall buildings. Another surprising thing was how dusty the roads were. There is a lot of construction going on right now in Cambodia and from what I could tell the sides of the road were proof. There was dirt everywhere. It didn't feel dirty (or at least dirtier than the streets in BKK) it just felt dusty. Also, everyone drives very slowly in cambodia. Especially the Tuk-Tuks. In BKK, you hop into a Tuk-Tuk and hold on. This is not the case in Campodia. This is nice for two reasons. One, its kinda peacefull. Two, traffic etiquite is more based on a policy of "I want to go there, so I will." Some really big intersections have lights or an officer. Other than that, cars just pull right out into a steady stream of cars and motos when they decide it's their turn to go. Its funny, somewhat surreal, and if the traffic traveled with any amount of speed it would be terrifying. But it doesn't so its not. Its just dusty and hot. After two hours of exploring central Phnom Pehn, Marisa and I were bussin it to Sihanoukville; a pretty cool beach town 4 or 5 hours out of Phnom Pehn. From what I can tell, Sihanoukville was once a really really rad place. It is still really cool, but as tourism has ramped up there, it is kinda becoming a town fully devoted to tourism. The beach is packed in with the type of bars and hostels and "full-moon" parties and "Tuesday's-are-80s-style-party-night-pubs" that young travelers can't help but throw money at. There are lots of people selling stuff and lots of little kids telling you to come have a drink in their restaurant. The beach itself is physically beautiful, its just that it kinda has that sloppy/"hung-over-but-rallying" feel to it. Marisa and I found a really nice bungalow at the edge of the beach (nice and quiet) and went to a "snake bar." A snake bar, is a restaurant that gets by with having terrible food and drinks by having really awesome snake/fish/bird/weird mammal/ and crocodile exhibits all around. I personally have no complaints about the place. The snakes were rad (there was even a snake underneath the glass of our table) and my beer was just dandy. Marisa's martini ended up being a vodka prune juice (the perfect drink for the aging wino!) The whole place was dark and really empty, which made it feel really creepy! There was a sign that said something to the effect of "if a crocodile approaches you its your own fault and you will die." Now, I was pretty sure this is not what they meant to say (language barrier), but it still made it all the more creepy. The next morning Marisa and I were on a long-tail boat on our way out to an island to spend the night. We were originally bound for "Bamboo Island" but we were warned as we were buying our tickets that it was small, kinda loud, and pretty polluted ("human pollution" wink wink gross gross). So, we changed our plans to go to Koh Ta Kiev. Our boat first stopped by Bamboo Island. It was beautiful (my opinion, not Marisa's). The beach we arrived at wrapped around a corner of the island. This means, when you stood at the edge, you had 270 degrees of clear, blue (probably polluted) water. To Marisa's credit, there were a lot of people packed into close proximity, there were a lot of half-finished (or half-destroyed) cement out-houses, and there were too many dead fish floating around. Still, I thought it was pretty. After half and hour or so our boat took us over to our island, Koh Ta Kiev. Koh Ta Kiev made Bamboo Island look like Bakersfield, California. The island was obviously big, but there was not a single road or motor vehichle on the island. Instead, there were five little bungalows (not five bungalow resorts.... 5 bungalows!) a pretty big dining hut, a living area for the people who worked the bungalows, a little house tucked away in a cove, and some Cambodian Navy guys camping about 300 yards up the beach from us. Thats it. Well, there was also a really dense jungle and the beach that stretched for at least 300 yards in both directions of our bungalow. The water was a bright blue and the sand was soft and white. Throughout the day, long tail boats would bring groups of Cambodian people out to the island to hang out for a few hours at a time, but even when they were there, the island just felt empty! It was awesome! Def the closest I have gotten to a deserted island. We took a long walk along the beach, did some snorkeling and went out on a Kayak. On the Kayak ride we saw what i think were Great Hornbills. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Hornbill http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Birds_of_Cambodia). They could have been the Wreathed Hornbill but I don't think they were. Either way, they were rad. After our kayak ride Marisa stepped on this type of shellfish that is covered in tiny sharp splinters. So she had about a hundred tiny sharp splinters in her foot. Nar-nar. She was tough though and got most of them out. To get her off of her feet for a little while we read on the nice big porch of the bungalow and watched as the sun set between two trees, right in front of us. It was epic. That night after dinner I finally lit the poi on fire! I have been practicing at least a little almost every night and was feeling pretty good about it. The rate at which I hit myself in the face/crotch has greatly decreased and I can actually do a few tricks. I had bought some gasoline and a lighter on the mainland and I was AMPED! Turns out, the poi are a lot scarier when they are on fire. Especially when you first light them... it is a lot of fire! I did some tricks with poi but felt I might as well take it somewhat easy my first time. Still, it was a lot of fun and now I am pretty hooked on poi.
The next morning Marisa and I went for another Kayak/snorkel, ate breakfast, and tearfully said our goodbyes to Koh Ta Kieve (just writing this makes me want to go back). On our way back to the mainland we had one hour at Bamboo Island, and a thirty minute snorkel stop at a huge plate-coral reef. For the afternoon we ran some errands and relaxed a bit on the beach in Sihanoukville and took an 8 p.m. buss back to Phnom Phen. We had the whole next day in Phenom Phen because our plane did not leave until 8 p.m.; so we went to some Cambodian Genocide memorials. They were narley (as Marisa wrote about with more elegance... obviously).
How? Two weekends ago Jon and I went to Cambodia for the ostensible purpose of a
visa run. See if you run across the border via bus then you only get a
15 day extension; however, if you come by plane they give you 30 days.
So we flew to Phnom Pehn and then bussed out to Sihanoukville to get
some good lonely beach time in. On the way back from the beaches and
islands we had one more day left in Phnom Pehn and decided to go to the
Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng (the genocide museum and old prison
S-21). I really didn’t want to go. I have this fear that seeing the
aftermath of what people are capable of will change my world view in a
negative way. I know this is an extremely selfish and juvenile
perspective but I thought I’d own up to it. I am an eternal optimist
and I love to think that my hopeful and shiny outlook on the world is
unshakeable, but the truth is I was really afraid to understand the
horrible things that people had done to one another in Cambodia during
the time of Pol Pot. UnderPol Pot and his followers, Cambodians killed an estimated
1.7 million scholars, Vietnamese, children, rogue Communist party members, and
countless others. Wearing glasses during that time could have meant a
death sentence. At Tuol Sleng over 17,000 people were tortured and
killed only 7 made it out alive. The Cambodians call it a museum, but
truly Tuol Sleng is very much in tact from the torture racks outside to
the iron bed frames in different rooms people were chained to and then
slaughtered. There were photographs in each room of people bleeding,
unconscious and dead. The Khmer Rouge was rigorous about its torture
documentation and as a result we have the photos to reflect upon. There
are also the thousands of photographs of the prisoners of Tuol Sleng.
These are the infamous photographs of people who were documented as new
arrivals to the prison. The looks on the faces vary from resignation,
to terror, pure sadness and defiance.
I couldn’t help but think, “How can people do this to one another?” I
thought I would be terribly sad, and I was. More than sadness; however,
I felt anger. I was enraged actually. How can people be so stupid?
Ordinary people beat childrens’ heads in against the Killing tree.
Ordinary people lied about their neighbors and had them thrown into
prison. Given the fact that these slaughters are a definitive part of
our history, from Bosnia, Rwanda, Burundi, Somalia, Sudan, China, Iraq,
countless others, is it something innate in humans? This tremendous
capacity to be brutal and so calculatingly cruel seems scarily
repeatable. How do things like this happen?
Things to learn and wonder about:
1. The psychology of genocide could possibly be one of the most
important fields of work in our time.
2. One woman’s face stood out to me above all the rest, and her look of
sheer defiance captured my heart and despite only being a picture, her
strength is forever imprinted in my mind.
3. It’s important to read and listen to the scholars of our time. They are
the advanced guard of society and that’s why they are always killed
first.
JON: One of the more interesting moments of the genocide museums
for me came at the very end of the second museum. Marisa and I had
just spent several hours in the killing fields and stalking from room to
room at tuol sleng where (in the last room we visited) they displayed the
torture devices the Khmer Rouge used to force confessions. Sure enough,
the first one in the room was a big water-boarding set-up. And behind it, a
picture of someone getting water-boarded. It is very easy to walk through a
place like Tuol Sleng and get all up on your high horse and think "WELL! if
MY government started doing this shit I wouldn't stand for it!" Well.... Our
government DID do that shit not too long ago (1492 to 2010 to be exact) and
I don't know about any of you but I haven't done anything past pissing and
moaning about it. Furthermore, in the eyes of the rest of the world, it is our
"democratically elected" government that is acting as extensions of our own hands.
And for that matter, the rest of the world is probably right until we actually start
doing more than pissing and moaning. I hope this isn't toooo preachy, but for
realsies; its easy to be passive when your genitals are not connected to a car battery.
That night we flew back into Thailand. Marisa got another 30 days on her visa and
mine was extended until May... two and a half months past the expiration date of my
work permit. Praise be to Freckles in the bounty of his wisdom and generosity.
and now you are still not caught up cause we went to Cambodia like 4 weeks ago haha.
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