Phnom Penh to Yangon: From One Bustling Metropolis to the Next

On Monday, we returned to the hectic streets of Phnom Penh from the tranquil beach of Sihanoukville.  With one full day to explore the city before our flight to Yangon, we had decided on a slightly more harrowing itinerary than our prior afternoon in the city.  In the morning, we planned to visit the Killing Fields and the afternoon would be spent at S-21, an old Khmer Rouge prison.

In addition to repeated queries as to what exactly Angkor Wat was, Giorgio had also been perplexed when Stephanie told him that we would be visiting the Killing Fields in Phnom Penh.  He was further perplexed when she explained that we would be visiting the Killing Fields to learn more about the Cambodian genocide under the Khmer Rouge.  Other than discussions in international law lectures about setting up international tribunals, Stephanie also knew less about the Pol Pot regime than she should.  Clearly, we both needed a history lesson.

For those interested in the details, here are some cliff notes.  When the Khmer Rouge took power in 1975, they methodically began creating an entirely agrarian economy.   Initially, citizens were urged to temporarily relocate to the countryside based on false claims that the US was about to bomb the city.  This was reasonably plausible given Cambodia’s very recent experience during the Vietnam War when American planes continuously bombed the Ho Chi Minh Trail and other parts of Cambodia and Laos.  The temporary evacuations became permanent as Khmer Rouge soldiers forced citizens out of their homes to work as peasants, leaving cities like Phnom Penh almost entirely empty.  Those who objected were killed on the spot.

At the same time, any members of the opposition, intellectuals (really, people with any level of education whatsoever), and members of the upper class, were systematically exterminated.  In the meantime, citizens in the countryside were separated from their families and forced to labor in the fields for hours.  Many died from starvation when the rice they grew was exported to China in exchange for firearms and ammunition instead of being used to feed the local population.  Others were executed at one of many Killing Fields where prisoners were killed with bamboo sticks, machetes or shovels -- there weren't enough bullets to "waste" on such executions.  Researchers estimate that about 2 out of 7 million people died during the reign of the Khmer Rouge, from 1975 to 1979.

The Choung Ek Killing Fields that we visited were just one of hundreds dispersed throughout the nation.  Today, the fields are an unexpectedly beautiful and somewhat peaceful place outside of the city.  A stupa has been erected near the entrance to house the skulls excavated from the mass graves as a reminder of the recently committed atrocities.

Security Prison 21, more commonly known as S-21, was originally a high school in the center of Phnom Penh, but was converted by the regime into the country’s largest prison and detention center.  After being tortured, the Cambodians it housed were typically brought to the Killing Fields.  When the Vietnamese liberated the capital, only seven prisoners remained alive.

Not surprisingly, it is difficult to adequately describe a visit to such horrific sites.  Prior to our visits, Stephanie had been reading a book about life under the Khmer Rouge, but was unprepared for the reality of actually going to the Killing Fields and S-21.  Looking at the walls of photos of both the victims and soldiers at the infamous center for torture, what struck us the most was how young both parties were, as if the entire war were fought by children.  Furthermore, it turns out Pol Pot was not a calm and controlled dictator.  He was actually quite paranoid – towards the end, many of the victims were actually Khmer Rouge soldiers and officials suspected of treason.  The guidebook had also noted that at Choung Ek, teeth and strips of clothing were still emerging from the mass graves.  It is difficult to explain what it's like to actually wander the paths bordering the graves and step on the frayed edges of fabric.

As a further historical note, our guide at S-21 and the audio tour at the Killing Fields both noted the extensive US bombing campaign in Cambodia prior to Pol Pot’s assumption of power.  What neither guide detailed was the extent to which this bombing campaign created support for a radical group with previously limited reach.  Stephanie found the summaries provided in various articles online to be particularly illuminating – click here for one example.  Many of these articles also provided the same quote from Henry Kissinger describing US support for the repressive regime once it had come to power: “[T]ell the Cambodians that we will be friends with them.  They are murderous thugs, but we won’t let that stand in our way.”

With a better grasp of both the current (and ancient) history of a country we had spent two weeks in, it was time for our flight to a new locale: Myanmar.  On Wednesday morning, we left Cambodia behind and were in Myanmar (via Bangkok) by early afternoon.  Despite being practically adjacent, it is already clear that the two countries are vastly different.  For one thing, Myanmar runs on a clock set thirty minutes earlier than its Southeast Asian neighbors.  That’s right, we are actually in a weird Chavez-esque fantasy time zone.  That should make it easier for Myanmar to open its doors and do business with the rest of the world…

Driving to our hotel from the airport, we were struck by the absence of tuk-tuks and the clean, non-crowded sidewalks.  Rows of leafy trees overhung the busy roads.  Passersby almost all wore traditional dress, which includes a longyi, or long wrap skirt, for both men and women.  Many women also had thanaka, a homemade paste, on their faces to act as an all-natural sunscreen.

For the next few days we will be busy exploring the cities of Yangon and Mandalay!

#stephandgio

Travels in Laos and Cambodia: Border Crossings, Minibuses, and the Beach

Leaving the 4,000 islands, we began travelling overland back to nearby Cambodia – final destination, the nation’s southern white sand beaches!  Not a trip to be tackled in one day, we had a three day journey south via ferry, minibus, tuk tuk, and our own two feet.

Day 1: Border Crossing Adventures

First on our travel agenda was crossing the border back to Cambodia.  From the “dock” at our hotel, we boarded an extremely full ferry back to the mainland.  Luckily, this ferry had no concerns about our all-inclusive “ticket.”  The ferry narrowly avoided capsizing several times and we were glad to arrive back on the mainland along with our dry belongings.

Since the ferry dock was full, we unloaded on the adjacent “beach” and straggled up to the town’s main dirt road along with our bags.  Unsure where we were supposed to pick up the promised bus that would take us over the border, we wandered through town, yellow ticket in hand, along with the rest of the ferry passengers.  We stopped at one likely location, but there was no sign of a bus departing anytime in the near future, so we followed a few other travellers further along the path, where we discovered the “bus station.”  By bus station, we mean a dirt parking lot with some beat-up minivans and various backpackers/dirty hippies trying to find the shadiest spot to wait.  Giorgio stood in line, where he miraculously exchanged the yellow ticket for two new pieces of paper, which also promised to take us to Kratie.

Out of the blue, someone shouted out that everyone going to Siem Reap should board two of the minivans.  One of the workers came up to us, looked at our ticket to Kratie, and insisted that we board one of the dilapidated vehicles as well.  However, since we were the last ones to get this memo, all the vans were already packed to the gills, with people crammed into the seats/aisles and luggage piled precariously on the roof.  Giorgio flat out refused to get into either car, convincing the workers to drive another van to the border with us and a few others.  Lucky us, we had a whole row to ourselves in the half-full minivan.

Our first-class trip was cut short by the border itself, where the driver unceremoniously dumped us and all our bags and subsequently disappeared, vaguely motioning that our next bus would be on the other side.  Giorgio compensated the customs officers for the complex and strenuous task of providing us with exit stamps and we were once again on our way.  (What happens if you refuse to pay the requested but not required $2 per stamp?  We aren’t quite sure, but didn’t think we needed to argue about it in the heat.)    

We tramped across the no man’s land separating Laos from Cambodia in the searing heat.  On the other side, we compensated a Cambodian official for taking our temperature – we wouldn’t want anyone miss out on compensation for being assigned to such a remote border post (and of course we want to avoid spreading Ebola).  After completing our visa and arrivals paperwork at various shacks staffed with various officials, we set off to find the promised bus. 

After showing our tickets and hopefully asking “Kratie?” several times, we were sent to wait in the shade, where the number of restaurants set up indicated this was a common occurrence.  We would need to hurry up and wait for our onward transportation. 

Suddenly, someone shouted out Kratie!  Giorgio made a mad dash, manfully carrying all the bags, while Steph raced to the bathroom ("bathroom" is a bit of an exaggeration for a shack where you pay someone 50 cents to pee in a hole in the ground, but whatever).  Returning from the bathroom, Steph found Gio once again arguing about number of places in the minivan.  This time he was less persuasive, however, and we were herded into the already-full vehicle.  Just as we were becoming accustomed to the cramped conditions, the driver announced that four people should fit in each row, not three, and a French couple was shoved in.

As our driver began to careen down the highway at high speeds, horn blaring to move wayward cows, scooters, cars, and larger buses, we consoled ourselves that at least the drive would only be an hour.  As we had boarded the minivan, we’d been informed that we would need to take not one, but two buses to Kratie.  We would have to transfer in the previously unmentioned town of Stung Treng.  Just as Steph was thinking that she couldn’t grip the ceiling for support any longer as the vehicle swerved this way and that, we arrived in Stung Treng, scrambling out as quickly as possible.  Our driver then screeched off, leaving us and the rest of the passengers at a café alongside the road, where we wondered where on Earth the next bus was.

We waited outside the small café, watching cows aimlessly wander up and down the dusty dirt road, creating obstacles for the scooters and tuk tuks to dodge.  Various snacks were purchased and games of Uno played, but still no onward bus to Kratie.  Our prior driver returned, but busied himself chatting with friends.  Amongst the hordes of backpackers waiting, there was a German couple sitting next to us.  They informed us that they had also been deposited in this café three hours ago and still had no idea when/if their second bus would depart.  Just as we were considering finding a taxi to take us the final two-hour stretch of the trip, the same rude and reckless driver from the prior minibus announced that he would now drive us to Kratie.  Why did we have to wait two hours for this announcement when he had just been hanging out with us at the roadside café almost the entire time?  It is not obvious.

After various pick-ups and drop-offs of locals along the way, and a lot more blasting of the horn, the driver dropped us off at an unknown location in Kratie, where, for various reasons, we had not booked a hotel room in advance.  This uncharacteristic lack of planning provided us with the “real” backpacker experience of choosing where to spend the night upon arrival.  There was a helpful local stationed in the parking lot who had envisioned just such a scenario.  He eagerly asked if he could show us rooms at “his” hotel – starting at only $6!  We followed him into the adjacent building, which mysteriously seemed more like a decaying European palace than a hotel in the middle of the jungle, to check out the rooms.  It turns out that the aircon rooms are a bit more than $6, but at only $15 and with no obvious flaws, we handed over our cash in exchange for the evening’s room, eager to shower and have dinner after the long day of travels. 

Day 2: Thankful for an Express Minibus

The prior evening, we had arranged our transportation onward to the capital.  Upon inquiring at the front desk, the hotel suggested that the fastest means of transport would be an “express minibus” leaving at 6 am.  Giorgio astutely began a line of inquiry as to how many people there would be on this four-hour journey and we soon discovered that for the additional sum of $4, we could purchase three seats instead of two.  Our new friend at the front desk promised that we would be in row 3, departing bright and early the following morning with a seat of our own.

Promptly at 6, our express minibus pulled up outside the hotel and we loaded into the vehicle.  We had not been scammed by the hotel and indeed had three seats in row 3 to ourselves.  Although we were not crammed in like sardines for the subsequent four hours, our driver still sped through the countryside and we watched the rice paddies pass by at a surprisingly rapid clip.  Our trip even included a civilized stop for breakfast and a bathroom break, rather than pausing briefly alongside the road for passengers to hop off and relieve themselves.

The green rice paddies and fruit trees eventually became shops and gas stations alongside an actual highway as we entered the frenetically busy city of Phnom Penh.  The driver deposited us in the central marketplace where we were immediately surrounded by tuk tuk drivers offering their services in broken English – “lady, you like tuk tuk?”  In no time, we were ensconced in our hotel lobby sipping fresh passion fruit juice, with plenty of time in the day left to relax and begin exploring the city.

We visited the Cambodian Royal Palace, marveling at the elaborate Silver Pagoda, and had drinks overlooking the Mekong and Phnom Penh's chaotic traffic at the Foreign Correspondent’s Club (a Phnom Penh institution).  To cap off the day, we had a “Thanksgiving dinner” at a local Italian restaurant.  Dinner included plenty of prosciutto and red wine, also key components of our traditional NYC Thanksgiving feast, so we felt like we were at home.

Day 3: Vamos a la Playa!

By our third day of travels, we were clearly minibus experts.  Plus, Phnom Penh offered a few more transportation options that we actually had time to research in advance.  In the morning, a Giant Ibis minivan picked us up, we loaded into our assigned seats, and four hours later, we were at the beach!  It was the easiest trip yet. 

For the past three days, we’ve been enjoying the squeaky white sand beaches of Sihanoukville.

For the most part, there is not much to report from our days at the beach.  At the last minute we decided to switch hotels from a more rustic hotel in an almost-deserted island off the coast to a more amenity-filled option on the mainland.  Following the myriad of travel adventures, it was nice to simply relax at the beach.  Plus, from our balcony we were treated to what Gio has determined may be the best sunsets thus far.

#stephandgio

Angkor Wat: Better than Machu Picchu?

From Bangkok, we hopped on a quick flight to Siem Reap, Cambodia.  The goal?  To see the ruins of Angkor Wat and other temples in the area.

When we had previously discussed the trip itinerary, Giorgio had asked various times, “what exactly is Angkor Wat again?”  Stephanie’s response was usually that it was the “Machu Picchu of Cambodia” and therefore a must-see.  Now that he’s been to Angkor Wat, Giorgio would like everyone to know that (in his opinion) it puts Machu Picchu to shame.  First of all, it’s not just one site – we saw several impressive temples, only one of which is Angkor Wat, and one large walled city (Angkor Thom).  That was only the tip of the iceberg.  Furthermore, the temples are not only an architectural wonder, but also boast incredible decorations and sculptures, the likes of which we certainly haven’t seen at Machu Picchu.  The main galleries of the various temples are home to intricate wall carvings, typically depicting Hindu and/or Buddhist myths – these works are not unlike Roman and Greek friezes.

We scheduled a tour guide for the two full days that we’d be in the area.  Even though it’s certainly possible (and enjoyable) to wander around the ruins on your own, we thought we needed to learn a bit more about the history and religion to fully appreciate our visit.  Plus, who knows when we’ll be back!

For our first afternoon, though, we didn’t have a plan.  Our trip from Bangkok was seamless and we arrived with plenty of time to start our explorations early.  Our taxi driver to town from the airport was so gregarious, telling us all about Cambodian politics and asking about the US, that we promptly took him up on his offer to drive us to some of the ruins in the afternoon.  We arranged to see a few of the temples that weren’t included on our official itinerary and decided on the perfect spot to see the sunset before setting off again from our hotel.

Our first stop was the ticket booth, where we purchased a three-day pass to see all the temples.  Giorgio almost got a free pass when the girls selling the tickets decided he looked Cambodian, which would have been great since the pass is not cheap.  Every Cambodian we met quickly pointed out that the money from the concession was going to the Vietnamese, rather than staying in the country like they thought it should.  In Cambodia, they view the Vietnamese with the same distaste that the locals in other countries we have visited reserve for the Chinese.  According to the locals, Vietnam is trying to annex Cambodia.  Who knew?

We clambered through some of the oldest temples in the complex, built in the 9^th and 10^th centuries, marveling at the Sanskrit inscriptions that remained in the stone as well as the stone elephants and singhas continuing to stand guard on many of the pyramids.

As sunset approached, we hiked to the top of a hill to the south of Siem Reap and the other ruins.  This summit was fortuitously located far from the more popular and crowded sites to view the sunset and, in addition to being home to the ruins of a temple, boasted a fabulous view of Tonle Sap Lake (the largest freshwater lake in Southeast Asia). 

Not long after the fabulous sunset, it was time to wake up before dawn to see the sunrise over Angkor Wat.  Although we usually make a point of avoiding large crowds, we made an exception for what we had heard would be a once in a lifetime view.

Our guide, Nol, picked us up bright and early at 4:45 to lead us to a spot in front of the temple in the dark.  We arrived just in time to have a front row view, although Nol sternly warned us not to move, as we would lose our place.  More and more tourists arrived as we waited, including various Asian photo-enthusiasts who tried to steal a spot in front of us along with their giant lenses and tripods.  We firmly stood our ground to maintain the prime position.

As we peered into the darkness, listening to the crickets and the babble of languages surrounding us, the temple towers gradually came into view, along with their reflection in the pond.  Although clouds obscured the famous view of the bright sun rising directly behind the turrets, the gradual emergence of the legendary temple in the dawn light was still well worth the early wake up call.  As the sun rose, the small plot of land in front of the temple filled with people – it was like we were attending a sold-out concert.

After the sunrise followed by a picnic breakfast along the calm banks of the moat, we began our explorations in earnest.  In the jungle, we encountered temples in various stages of ruin, as well as the vast city complex of Angkor Thom.  Giorgio’s photos are the best way to describe the experience, so we’ll let them speak for themselves and simply note some of the highlights along the way.

Many smiling faces at Bayon:

Ta Prohm, or the “Tomb Raider” temple:

Bantay Srei, the only temple made of pink sandstone:

We knew little to nothing about Angkor and the Khmer kingdom before our visit and welcomed the opportunity to learn more about the complex civilization that ruled the region several centuries ago.  We hadn’t even realized that most of the temples in what is now a Buddhist country originated as Hindu temples, designed to worship gods like Vishnu and Shiva. Throughout the reigns of various kings between the 9^th and 14^th centuries, temples were erected to honor either Hindu or Buddhist gods, as beliefs flip flopped between the two religions.  Each king was considered to be a deity in his own right, so a temple would often be built in his honor as well.  When a new king ascended to the throne, he would mandate the construction of a new temple to surpass the previously erected structures.  Visiting the temples in chronological order means that each is more impressive than the last.

Our guide also provided insight into more recent Cambodian history, describing the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge as well as the current problems of government corruption.  Nol compared the Khmer Rouge to the devils depicted in the carvings lining the galleries at Angkor Wat.  They utilized the same methods of torture and after the fall of Pol Pot, the local people came to the temple to scratch out the faces of the devils, which they also linked to the regime’s cruelty.  More than one Cambodian we met lamented that Cambodians are very unlucky people.  “Not like America – Americans very lucky people,” Nol would say.

Some of the temples, such as Angkor Wat itself, are still in use by the Buddhist monks and therefore enforce the same dress code that we encountered in Bangkok.  We had also read that the Cambodians view all of Angkor as a sacred site and are routinely taken aback by the clothing worn by tourists, but are too polite to point this out.  Keeping this all in mind, we wore pants and t-shirts both days despite the heat, rather than the tank tops and booty shorts favored by some other visitors.  When one American girl was told that she could not enter the second story of Angkor Wat due to her attire, we overheard her tell her friends “that’s so racist!”  We are pretty sure she doesn’t understand the definition of racism or how to be respectful when visiting a foreign country.

In between explorations of the temple complex, we had plenty of time to escape the intense heat relaxing poolside in the shade and exploring the city of Siem Reap.  Although it isn’t a large town, it’s easiest to navigate via tuk tuk because of the chaotic traffic and nonexistent sidewalks.  We wandered through the market, sampled Cambodian street food (but avoided the fried spiders), conducted a taste test of “Cambodia” beer versus “Angkor” beer, discovered Cambodian barbecue (basically a combination of shabu-shabu and Korean barbecue), and stopped for a $1 foot massage.  The ladies at the massage parlor found Giorgio to be endlessly entertaining, not because he was a man getting a massage (there were plenty of other husbands/boyfriends on the premises), but presumably because of his mysterious ethnicity.

We concluded this initial Cambodian adventure with a 15 minute tuk-tuk drive to the airport the following morning.  We are now in Laos, about to embark on a new adventure: motor-biking around the Bolaven Plateau.  Stay tuned for updates detailing Gio’s driving skills and Steph’s ability (or inability) to read signs in Lao.

#stephandgio