Siem Reap

Jul 21, 2013 23:16


The awesome Eighty8 Backpackers hostel in Phnom Penh did a bang up job with my whole unplanned stay making it super easy and comfortable to be in Cambodia's capital. They booked me on a $9 bus that was to leave at 2:30 and take 5 hours to drive to Siem Reap. There is also a boat that will take you across the giant lake in Central Cambodia but I read too many horror stories on Travel Advisor about how the boats are death traps, too old to be safe and break down frequently and can take hours to repair or for another boat to rescue stranded passengers. At least if I got stranded by bus I wouldn't drown.

I was a bit nervous about what would happen once I got into Siem Reap. Miesha had been super gracious to offer up her and Chris' place for me to stay but basically just said, call our neighbor, So, to come pick you up when you arrive. I had given my Vietnam phone back to Jaclyn and had no idea how I was going to call this guy or if he knew I was coming. Meisha didn't give me an address and said they didn't really use addresses. I later read that since education in Cambodia was so poor and since most of the teachers and intellectuals were killed by the Khmer Rouge in the '70s that many Khmer can not read (including maps), write, or do basic arithmetic. Literacy rates are even worse among women who are treated as second class citizens.

The bus finally got to Siem Reap around 9 pm, only 2 hours past the estimated time. Finding someone with a phone who was ALSO willing to let me use it was difficult. All the Tuk Tuk (motorcycle drawn carriages) were bombarding us "I take you to hotel?" "Need Tuk Tuk?"

"No," I would respond directly and calmly, "I need a phone. Where can I use the phone?"

Finally the bus tenant found someone. I showed the number I had scrawled in my notebook (some of the best travel advice I've ever received is to always have a pen and notebook since written communication is often more direct and easy to understand between people who don't speak the same language). Te first time it said the number was out of service, but he actually just couldn't read my 2s and thought they were 7s. The second time I talked to So, who is sweet as pie but speaks very broken English. I trusted the closet person next to me to ask where we were and asked if So could pick me up or how I should get to him (he had the keys to Miesha and Chris' house). He said he would come get me in 10 minutes. All of the other tourists had found rides with Tuk Tuk drivers to the "city center" or to their hotels. I took a seat on a wooden pallet next to a mom and her adorable little kids. She had lots of boxes and bags of things with her. I'm not sure who was going to pick her up.

I struck up a broken conversation with one of the remaining Tuk Tuk drivers. He showed me where we were on the giant faded map on the side of the bus station. He asked where I was staying, to which I honestly didn't know. I just said I was staying at my friend and someone was going to pick me up. He asked if the person picking me up was western or Khmer. And if the person was a man or women. He was clearly disproving of both answers.

After 25 minutes I finagled one of the remaining Tuk Tuk drivers to let me use his phone to call again. His first response was , "if he said he was coming, he's coming" but I was insistent. I have a deep feeling that they were all making fun of me and my predicament in Khmer the whole time. Eventually So showed up with his beautiful Tuk Tuk and I couldn't help myself but give him a hug. Miesha hadn't led me astray and the universe conspired to help me once I committed to a plan. We loaded up my pack and drove the few miles from the bus station to the house. So parked in back and I met his uncle, who is Meisha and Chris' landlord, and his cousins and about half a dozen dogs, including Chris', Doji, who was by far the friendliest and cutest. While So definitely had the key to the house, he did not have the key to the massive gate leading into the yard.

I sat on the curb with my pack, petting Doji and feeling very happy to have made it as far as I had on blind faith and a prayer. After what felt like ever, So said they couldn't open the gate but that the wall was lower in the back and we could climb it. I was wearing a dress. It was 10 pm and I was climbing up on top of a  porch swing to get over a wall to get into a house where I would spend the next few days. Okay c'est la vie. I knew at least one other person was staying in the house teaching summer school but no me was home when we arrived. So gave me the grand tour and just as he and his little girl cousin were leaving, two motos pull up and open the gate. Friends! Life is good. I make plans to meet So in the back at 4:30 for sunrise at Angkor and he leaves.

Alicia, a Polish native who spent much of her time in Chicago is Mesha's coworker and was teaching Summer school but was getting ready to transition  back to the states to teach middle school in Philidelphia. Her boyfriend, Marcus, had been backpacking through Asia for the past 3 months and change and he was staying one last night in Siem Reap.

They were accompanied by 2 Khmer employees of JPA, Sochetta, who was Alicia's cote archer and their IT guy, who's name I'm embarrassed I forgot. They gave me a beer and showed me around, showed me which room I could stay in and we chatted for a while and looked at pictures of their weekend in Saigon. They offered me ingredients to make a ham sandwich. I passed on the ham, but I did have 4 open faced cheese sammies. CHEESE! Pretty much the only western food i was really missing this whole trip. Delicious. By 11 pm I was exhausted and as I had to get up in just over 5 hours, I excused myself upstairs to my suit (each of the 3 bedrooms have a private bath attached) and went to sleep.
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