So now we move to the less dark side of Cambodia.
The next day the Canadian girls had headed on, so myself and Joonas went to see the palace and silver pagoda. The palace was pretty good, but I'd say the one in Bangkok probably has the edge. The silver pagoda (which just like the temple in the palace at Bangkok contains an emerald Buddha) were used to make up the floor and so only a small area of tiles was visible at the door. I've got to say if I had myself 5000 silver tiles, they'd be hung up on the walls or ceiling. We then ran into problems with the palace guard who wouldn't let us back through to the royal side. We decided to cut our losses here and not follow the example of an English couple who were shouting abuse at this armed man. That night we made it to the lakeside (we had got lost on the first night when we tried to find it.) This place is THE backpacker hangout I've seen so far. Drugs freely available, cheap food, cheaper accommodation and hundreds of stoned white people.
After a $2 all you can eat Indian, we headed home so I could prepare fro my trip down the coast the next day. The bus journey wasn't that eventful (Although I did flash back to the Cu Chi tunnels when trying to make it to the on board toilet). I made it to my Sihanoukville hotel room by 3. In the evening I discovered that this is THE place for BBQ seafood. Next day I decided to rent a bike. The first place I went had none left, but the guy charitably offered to give me a lift to his friends place where I could rent one. $2 later i was off exploring. I've never hurt so much riding a bike. Cambodian highways are fine, but small roads are either dirt, or more pothole than road. After about 20km my thighs, arse and knee were killing me. When, passing over one big pothole, my water bottle decided to leap from the basket and hit me in the face, I knew it was time to go home. On the way I did encounter the truly unique experience of a Cambodian roundabout - strategically placed at the bottom of 3 hills. Nonetheless, I survived.
Next couple of days were quite quiet (played in a pool competition and TWICE came runner up in a 10 person winner take all game - did get free beer though so at least there was a silver lining) and I'm now back in Phnom Pehn (finally the blog is up to date again!) waiting to head on to Siem Reap (And the temples of Angkor) tomorrow morning.
Sunday 6 December 2009
Friday 4 December 2009
So you've been to school for a year or two, and you know you've seen it all...
For those who don't know their Cambodian history, this is a good place for you to start, otherwise my rants and opinions may seem slightly out there...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khmer_Rouge
In two and a half months in South East Asia (70 days by the time I left Phnom Pehn) I thought that I'd seen some hardship. But nothing quite prepared me for the contrasts I saw in my first few days in Cambodia.
The people here are warm and friendly, but there seems to be a lot more need in any sales situation. They have to have you buy this t-shirt/book/weed/opium/cocaine or get in his tuk-tuk/motorbike or visit the brothel he's paid commission by. Its the first place I've encountered children begging for money (rather than trying to sell you stuff). When we (me, the Canadian girls from Saigon and Joonas, a Finnish guy from my dorm) visited the Killing Fields, there were children literally begging for water, and although I like to believe that bullets bounce off me, I found that a little much to take. Especially after what we had just seen inside.
The first thing which you see is a giant stuppa - the monument that Buddhists put up to the dead. This stuppa however is not like any other that you are likely to encounter as it contains the skulls of more than 8000 of the Khmer Rouge's victims. The skulls are sorted by age group, ranging from children to people in their 70s and 80s. Beneath the mound of skulls is a box containing the rags that the victims were clad in - that is those who weren't hurled naked into mass graves. As we moved around the compound we saw other sights that were equally as chilling. The first that we came to was one of the mass graves that had been excavated in the 80s, some of which has contained literally hundreds of bodies. Then we came to the weapons which had been used by the Khmer Rouge soldiers to kill the people. As bullets were considered to precious to waste, farm tools such as hoes, scythes, hammers and machetes were used. Then we came to the baby killing tree - which is unfortunately just as horrible as it sounds. Soldiers used to pick up small children and babies by their ankles and beat their heads against the tree until they died. It was roughly at this point that we were surrounded by the children asking for water, and it would take a harder heart than mine not to be upset by it all.
In an effort to lighten the mood we went to "Happy's pizza" for dinner, but the sign wrote a cheque which the chef failed to deliver. Although a perfectly passable pepperoni the pizza didn't leave me any happier for eating it. So after a few beers and a two hour conversation on what it takes before a character to be truly classed as a Muppet, we headed home (as Joonas had the key, and the door was long locked, I felt it was a good idea to go with him, as the streets of Phnom Pehn didn't look the comfiest to sleep on)
Now before my next depressive installment on the s-21 genocide museum, I feel I should try and lighten the mood by describing my accommodation to you. Firstly, the shower. Cold water only, and it sprayed at all angles. The dorm room had no door, and the window was a mosquito net. the beds were THIN foam mattresses on wooden benches. With all this, I think it can only be a testament to the staff and the people that I met there that I stayed for four nights (and am planning on going back for two more) (OK it was also $4 a night). In addition I want to get a tarantula from the woman who sells them door to door (I only got a snake on a stick last time). Next door to our place was a dog that howled like a wolf every time I walked past - they do say if you've eaten dog other dogs can tell....
Anyway the next day I went to s-21. Now before the Khmer Rouge took power this place was a school. When they took over it became a prison and interrogation camp. Now I've heard the idea (and to be fair probably voiced it myself a few times) that a school is like a prison, but to see one so transformed was horrific. Not believing in ghosts, its hard to say what I felt, but you could almost see the kids running around the corridors. The ground floor was made up of photos of some of the 18 000 prisoners who were brought through the gates. When the Vietnamese liberated the prison there were SEVEN people left alive inside. SEVEN! The next floor contained the cells that they were locked in. I decided to shut myself in one of the, just to get the beginnings of an inkling of the conditions. The wooden box brought to mind a coffin, as if I'd lain down that would have been roughly how roomy it would have been. It must have been 7'6"by 2'6"" maximum. The second to last room set (the last were photos taken of the Khmer Rouge regieme by a Swedish visitor who was there at the time on their request) were the most upsetting. As Stalin - or was it Marilyn Manson - said "The death of one is a tragedy, the death of a million is just a statistic" - well this room contained the tragedies. There were reams of stories of individuals who had been taken away, reassigned work or just simply vanished. It was rare that people were admitted to have been executed. The one which jarred with me the most was a man taken away just two weeks before the Vietnamese liberated Phnom Pehn. They must have known they were beaten by then - it just seems so futile. The Cambodian government have preserved the prison as it was, including barbed wire at the balcony of some floors which was placed there to stop prisoners throwing themselves off. Part of me wonders if it was kept there to prevent utterly depressed tourists doing the same thing....
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khmer_Rouge
In two and a half months in South East Asia (70 days by the time I left Phnom Pehn) I thought that I'd seen some hardship. But nothing quite prepared me for the contrasts I saw in my first few days in Cambodia.
The people here are warm and friendly, but there seems to be a lot more need in any sales situation. They have to have you buy this t-shirt/book/weed/opium/cocaine or get in his tuk-tuk/motorbike or visit the brothel he's paid commission by. Its the first place I've encountered children begging for money (rather than trying to sell you stuff). When we (me, the Canadian girls from Saigon and Joonas, a Finnish guy from my dorm) visited the Killing Fields, there were children literally begging for water, and although I like to believe that bullets bounce off me, I found that a little much to take. Especially after what we had just seen inside.
The first thing which you see is a giant stuppa - the monument that Buddhists put up to the dead. This stuppa however is not like any other that you are likely to encounter as it contains the skulls of more than 8000 of the Khmer Rouge's victims. The skulls are sorted by age group, ranging from children to people in their 70s and 80s. Beneath the mound of skulls is a box containing the rags that the victims were clad in - that is those who weren't hurled naked into mass graves. As we moved around the compound we saw other sights that were equally as chilling. The first that we came to was one of the mass graves that had been excavated in the 80s, some of which has contained literally hundreds of bodies. Then we came to the weapons which had been used by the Khmer Rouge soldiers to kill the people. As bullets were considered to precious to waste, farm tools such as hoes, scythes, hammers and machetes were used. Then we came to the baby killing tree - which is unfortunately just as horrible as it sounds. Soldiers used to pick up small children and babies by their ankles and beat their heads against the tree until they died. It was roughly at this point that we were surrounded by the children asking for water, and it would take a harder heart than mine not to be upset by it all.
In an effort to lighten the mood we went to "Happy's pizza" for dinner, but the sign wrote a cheque which the chef failed to deliver. Although a perfectly passable pepperoni the pizza didn't leave me any happier for eating it. So after a few beers and a two hour conversation on what it takes before a character to be truly classed as a Muppet, we headed home (as Joonas had the key, and the door was long locked, I felt it was a good idea to go with him, as the streets of Phnom Pehn didn't look the comfiest to sleep on)
Now before my next depressive installment on the s-21 genocide museum, I feel I should try and lighten the mood by describing my accommodation to you. Firstly, the shower. Cold water only, and it sprayed at all angles. The dorm room had no door, and the window was a mosquito net. the beds were THIN foam mattresses on wooden benches. With all this, I think it can only be a testament to the staff and the people that I met there that I stayed for four nights (and am planning on going back for two more) (OK it was also $4 a night). In addition I want to get a tarantula from the woman who sells them door to door (I only got a snake on a stick last time). Next door to our place was a dog that howled like a wolf every time I walked past - they do say if you've eaten dog other dogs can tell....
Anyway the next day I went to s-21. Now before the Khmer Rouge took power this place was a school. When they took over it became a prison and interrogation camp. Now I've heard the idea (and to be fair probably voiced it myself a few times) that a school is like a prison, but to see one so transformed was horrific. Not believing in ghosts, its hard to say what I felt, but you could almost see the kids running around the corridors. The ground floor was made up of photos of some of the 18 000 prisoners who were brought through the gates. When the Vietnamese liberated the prison there were SEVEN people left alive inside. SEVEN! The next floor contained the cells that they were locked in. I decided to shut myself in one of the, just to get the beginnings of an inkling of the conditions. The wooden box brought to mind a coffin, as if I'd lain down that would have been roughly how roomy it would have been. It must have been 7'6"by 2'6"" maximum. The second to last room set (the last were photos taken of the Khmer Rouge regieme by a Swedish visitor who was there at the time on their request) were the most upsetting. As Stalin - or was it Marilyn Manson - said "The death of one is a tragedy, the death of a million is just a statistic" - well this room contained the tragedies. There were reams of stories of individuals who had been taken away, reassigned work or just simply vanished. It was rare that people were admitted to have been executed. The one which jarred with me the most was a man taken away just two weeks before the Vietnamese liberated Phnom Pehn. They must have known they were beaten by then - it just seems so futile. The Cambodian government have preserved the prison as it was, including barbed wire at the balcony of some floors which was placed there to stop prisoners throwing themselves off. Part of me wonders if it was kept there to prevent utterly depressed tourists doing the same thing....
Tuesday 1 December 2009
The last bus leaving Saigon....
Well now I'm in Cambodia my Vietnam adventure is over. I'll relay the events of my last few days...
The advance party (saul and then lisa) did pretty well finding us a nice wee triple room with en suite for $21. Didn't stop us hunting down somewhere cheaper the next night though.
On the first full day we hit all the touristy sights heading for the reunification palace and the war remnants museum. While we were at the palace we ran into a group of monks that were on holiday from Laos. Now I know its against their religion, but I'm sure that one of them was VERY hungover...
The palace was alright - and like all true palaces should, it came with its own "gambling room" and cinema - but the most interesting part was the underground command station from where the south ran the war. As it has been preserved in the state it was on reunification in 1975, you can really get a feel for the place. And as I sat behind the "forbidden" desk, I could really feel my megalomania grow.
Before I reached Cambodia, I can say without a doubt that the war remnants museum was the most harrowing place I've ever been. I'd been warned in advance, but still I wasn't prepared for what hit me when I walked in. The images of the brutality of war didn't pull any punches... I had been planning to take some pictures of the museum, but after I'd seen the first few, the camera hung loose around my neck. The pictures of Agent Orange victims, as well as those of the landmine and bombing campaigns will be with me for a long time - photos or no.
In order to forget the traumatic images of the day, we headed out en masse that evening. Between the three of us, Bronwyn, Vera and Hayley, a group of four Canadian girls that Saul knew and some of their friends, we had the biggest drinking group since the Chicken Game in Luang Prabang.
After a few, we retired so that we would be up in time for our Mekong Delta tour the next day. The tour was pretty good, although the cycle part turned into a bit of a farce, as three bikes fell apart and the guide set off at a pace that would have made Lance Armstrong jealous. The Lance Armstrong to whom I refer is of course not the world famous cyclist, but rather the one legged butcher from Helensburgh. The villages and manufacturing places were cool to see, but once again I got the impression that they were very much laid on for us to see. I did enjoy posing for a pic with the python though.
At this point I have to introduce a new character to our story. Ek-Rat or as he affectionately became known, Ecky was a Thai man in his 60s travelling through Vietnam and then into China, having left behind his wife - who in fairness didn't like long distance travel - to look after his ten cats. Ecky joined us for dinner and drinks that evening as well as booking on to the Cu Chi tunnels tour with us the following day. He did seem to be surprised when he discovered that we didn't share his love of the Beatles, Cliff Richard and Celine Dion.
On the way to the Mekong I bought a ham and pate sandwich. On the way to Cu Chi I bought a meat and pate one that was not. I genuinely think it was dog... After that disappointment we arrived at the tunnels. Although the tone here was more partisan than anything else I have experienced in Vietnam, I really enjoyed it. I think I may have survived life as a tunnel rat, although trying to perch and fire a gun would have been a challenge. Poor Ecky may not have done as well as me, as he lost his glasses in the crawl. That night we had drinks with him and the hotel staff - whose I kind offer of duck embryo, I politely declined.
The next day was pretty quiet, I updated the diary, wrote some postcards (although they weren't sent til I reached Cambodia) and I sorted out onward transport. The six hour bus ride to Phnom Pehn went remarkably quickly, and as I chucked the drivers mate $5, I didn't even have to do much at border control. We were almost on time (for once).
The advance party (saul and then lisa) did pretty well finding us a nice wee triple room with en suite for $21. Didn't stop us hunting down somewhere cheaper the next night though.
On the first full day we hit all the touristy sights heading for the reunification palace and the war remnants museum. While we were at the palace we ran into a group of monks that were on holiday from Laos. Now I know its against their religion, but I'm sure that one of them was VERY hungover...
The palace was alright - and like all true palaces should, it came with its own "gambling room" and cinema - but the most interesting part was the underground command station from where the south ran the war. As it has been preserved in the state it was on reunification in 1975, you can really get a feel for the place. And as I sat behind the "forbidden" desk, I could really feel my megalomania grow.
Before I reached Cambodia, I can say without a doubt that the war remnants museum was the most harrowing place I've ever been. I'd been warned in advance, but still I wasn't prepared for what hit me when I walked in. The images of the brutality of war didn't pull any punches... I had been planning to take some pictures of the museum, but after I'd seen the first few, the camera hung loose around my neck. The pictures of Agent Orange victims, as well as those of the landmine and bombing campaigns will be with me for a long time - photos or no.
In order to forget the traumatic images of the day, we headed out en masse that evening. Between the three of us, Bronwyn, Vera and Hayley, a group of four Canadian girls that Saul knew and some of their friends, we had the biggest drinking group since the Chicken Game in Luang Prabang.
After a few, we retired so that we would be up in time for our Mekong Delta tour the next day. The tour was pretty good, although the cycle part turned into a bit of a farce, as three bikes fell apart and the guide set off at a pace that would have made Lance Armstrong jealous. The Lance Armstrong to whom I refer is of course not the world famous cyclist, but rather the one legged butcher from Helensburgh. The villages and manufacturing places were cool to see, but once again I got the impression that they were very much laid on for us to see. I did enjoy posing for a pic with the python though.
At this point I have to introduce a new character to our story. Ek-Rat or as he affectionately became known, Ecky was a Thai man in his 60s travelling through Vietnam and then into China, having left behind his wife - who in fairness didn't like long distance travel - to look after his ten cats. Ecky joined us for dinner and drinks that evening as well as booking on to the Cu Chi tunnels tour with us the following day. He did seem to be surprised when he discovered that we didn't share his love of the Beatles, Cliff Richard and Celine Dion.
On the way to the Mekong I bought a ham and pate sandwich. On the way to Cu Chi I bought a meat and pate one that was not. I genuinely think it was dog... After that disappointment we arrived at the tunnels. Although the tone here was more partisan than anything else I have experienced in Vietnam, I really enjoyed it. I think I may have survived life as a tunnel rat, although trying to perch and fire a gun would have been a challenge. Poor Ecky may not have done as well as me, as he lost his glasses in the crawl. That night we had drinks with him and the hotel staff - whose I kind offer of duck embryo, I politely declined.
The next day was pretty quiet, I updated the diary, wrote some postcards (although they weren't sent til I reached Cambodia) and I sorted out onward transport. The six hour bus ride to Phnom Pehn went remarkably quickly, and as I chucked the drivers mate $5, I didn't even have to do much at border control. We were almost on time (for once).
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