Thursday, August 23, 2007

Lessons About Southeast Asia


After a few months here, I've learned a few things about 
  • For women pajama sets are always appropriate attire, no matter what the situation
  • There is no such thing as an "express bus"
  • Thailand is the land of 7-11s, and Cambodia is the land of rubber banded plastic bags
  • No matter how big or small, a bicycle is always your size
  • 90% of people in the world are size 'M'
  • It is far better to be Canadian than American
  • Tanktops are never ever a good look for a middle aged man
  • Rice is the perfect side dish to anything, even rice
  • Mime is the universal language
  • There is no problem that cannot be solved by money
  • "Hey lady you need tuktuk" is the most lascivious statement ever
  • The holier the temple, the more foreigners dressed inappropriately
  • Korea is Spaaarkling (that's their national slogan)
  • Monks are more adventurous than the average person (i.e. riding in the back of a truck, covered in auto parts)
  • Processed meats come in every shape and color imaginable (but everyone will call it chicken), and should be put on everything, even vegetarian pizza
  • Every white guy secretly has an (east) asian fetish
  • Things sold in boutiques are really just things bought in local markets and cleaned
  • Anything and everything can be transported on a motorbike: refrigerator, chest of drawers, TV, girl w/ IV, 1000 baskets, 5 huge ceramic urns, 3 fat Americans
  • Toilet paper can clean anything
  • Plastic bags are the perfect containers for all items
  • No real asian actually finishes all their food-- to not leave something on your plate is to prove yourself uncouth!

Monday, August 20, 2007

Transportation

People often ask how I get around in Southeast Asia.  The answer: many many different way.  Here's a summary of all the modes of transportation I've taken in 3.5 months over here.


-Plane (with and without propellers)
-Bicycle
-Back of bicycle
-Motorcycle 
-Boat (motor)
-Canoe
-Kayak
-Sailboat
-Swan paddle boat
-Bus (long run and local)
-Car
-1989 white souped-up Camry
-Back of pickup truck
-Tuktuk (of varying shapes and sizes)
-Van/minibus
-Sidecar of motorcycle
-Cyclo
-By foot
-Ferry
-Catamaran
-Sangthaew
-Subway

Now all I need is "hovercraft" and "jetpack" and I think I'll have hit just about every mode of transportation there is.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Lao, Thailand: Part 1


From Hanoi I crossed into Luang Prabang, Lao.  Unfortunately Haley couldn't come with me, as planned, because a Lao Airline flight attendant was on a power trip regarding the validity of Haley's passport (it was valid, in case you were wondering).  We said a said goodbye as she took a plane to Cambodia, but luckily I met a really great Chinese-German-British girl who I ended up rooming with and spending time with in Luang Prabang.  LP is a sleepy little town, very laid-back and a nice change from the craziness of Vietnam. I spent the first full day in town, going to the museum, a whole lot of temples, and generally meandering around.  The next morning we took a tuk-tuk out to a beautiful series of waterfalls, which were much bigger than the ones in Mondulkiri, Cambodia.  We spent the afternoon swimming in the (freezing) turquoise pools that flowed from it.   After one more day of hanging out with monks and strolling by the river, I flew down to Vietnaine, the capital of Lao.  Although bigger than LP, Vientaine still had a laid-back air to it and I spent my days checking out wats (temples), going to the night markets, and enjoying the riverside area.  


On Sunday I took a bus from there to Thailand and spent the day in Udon Thani, a concrete jungle of a city, before flying to Chiang Mai on a propellered plane painted to resemble a parrot.  Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand but is less urban and has more character than Bangkok supposedly does.  Chiang Mai is surrounded by moats and has more than 300 temples in it, which means that the entire town looks like a postcard waiting to happen.  I spent my time in Chiang Mai going to more temples, markets, and stuffing my face with delicious food. After a few days there I took a bus down to Sukhothai, the former capital, where today I spent the day checking out the ancient city and hanging out with some local kids, after it turned out that the mini-bus/pick-up truck I was on was actually a school bus.  Now its time for some more noodles (I eat noodles 3x a day now, which is a change from the Cambodian diet of rice 3x a day) and meandering about town.


Traveling like this has been an exhausting, amazing, complicated, fun experience and I'm excited for the next two weeks, which will see me tackling southern Thailand and Malaysia.  I've met some great people, both locals and foreigners, and seen some wierd and beautiful things (a monk in the back of a pickup truck surrounded by spare car parts; the sunrise over a wat in LP) and done some strange stuff (ride on the back of a bicycle in the middle of the night in a town in the Mekong Delta).  These are the experiences I will no doubt remember forever.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Vietnam, Part 3


Next up was Halong Bay, another UNESCO heritage site and one of the world's most beautiful bays. There are thousands of towering limestone kasts and isles in the bay.  It is said that when the Chinese were trying to invade Vietnam, the gods send a family of dragons down to defend the land.  These dragons began spitting out jewels, which have become the islets and limestone towers of the bay.  

We got up early on the first day of our excursion, and took a van 3.5 hours to Halong City, right on the water.  This is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Vietnam, so the docks were crowded with boats.  We got on our boat, which was pretty nice; downstairs were the cabins, the middle had the dining area and the top was open and had lounge chairs. At around 2pm we left the shore and enjoy a surprisingly good lunch.  By 3pm we reached the main cave, which was huge and lit with tacky blue, green and orange lighting.  We spent around 40 minutes walking around inside.  Then it was back to the boat for more cruising through the isles, which are stunning, particularly when the sun is out.  We took a short trip on a small metal canoe through some small, low passes into pool areas between isles.  We passed the time between stops reading and enjoying the view as we sailed to the kayaking area.  At 5pm we got to our destination and wriggled down into our kayaks.  Haley and I were not the most efficient kayaking team and got left behind while the others go through various caves.  We just enjoyed the sunset and headed back to the boat.  Some of the other people decided to jump off the boat and go swimming, and although the water is very warm, its also strangly green and we decide to pass on the swim.  After dinner and some interesting conversations with other passengers, we called it a night.  
 
The next day I woke up at 5am to catch the sunrise, which was beautiful and dramatic. We spent the morning cruising between the islets.  By 11:30am we were back at the dock, by 1pm back on the bus, and by 4pm back in Hanoi.   
 
Given the success of that trip, and our general dislike of sterile Hanoi, we decided to take a trip to the Perfume Pagoda in northern corner of the country the next day.  The Pagoda is actually a series of temples carved into the side of limestone mountains.  At 8am we sent off in van with the group and after 90 minutes of driving through the countryside, we reached a village on the river.  We got into small metal, barely seaworthy canoes, rowed by skinny young women.  A  large Australian women nearly capsized us, so the rest of the one hour trip was pretty tense.  Upon reaching the shore we decided to forgo the cable car and instead hiked the hour up to the top, actually beating the cable car.  The cave pagoda is huge and the connecting tunnels seem endless.  After some exploration we hiked down and got back into our rickety canoes, with the sky darkening. We spent most of the return trip in gusting winds trying to out-run the storm of lightining and thunder, and reached the shore just as the sky opens up. 

Upon our return to Hanoi, we packed up and prepared to say goodbye to Vietnam, at least for now.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Vietnam, Part 2



On our last day in Saigon we ate breakfast on the street outside the guesthouse agan. This time it was stir-fried noodles with shrimp and pork-- very good.  After eating we took motos to the War Remnants Museum.  The museum was surprisingly neutral and even paid tribute to western photojournalists who died in the war.  There are lots of pictures of people who have suffered birth defects because of Agent Orange, and even a few deformed fetuses on display, along side abandoned US military equiptment and tanks.  After spending a while there we took a moto to Notre Dame Cathedral, because the Reunification Palace is closed for lunch.  Unfortunately the cathedral was closed as well and we ended up just taking some pictures and watching a bridal catalogue photo shoot.  We walked to Reunification Palace for some more photos and to have lunch at a huge Vietnamese outdoor restaurant.  We had an hour to kill and a nearby travel agent advised us to walk to the Opera House and local government buildings.  We took pictures with a giant statue of 'Uncle Ho' teaching a little girl to fire a rocket launcher.  Done sightseeing, we took motos back to the guesthouse, said goodbye to our new local friends and headed off to the airport, enjoying our last views of Saigon.  


After our time in Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City, we took a plane to Hoi An, a UNESCO world heritage site and quaint town on a river in the middle of the Vietnam coast.  Hoi An is known for its well-preserved historical old town (which is most of the this town of 100,000 people), its tailoring shops and its beach.  We spent two nights in Hoi An and checked out the tailoring shops (Haley had a coat and some dresses made in less than 12 hours!), biked the 5km to the beautiful, white-sand beach (the water was bath-water warm) and relaxed by the river.  On the second day we went on a self-guided walking tour of the old town, stopping at a Chinese meeting house, a temple, the museum of Hoi An history, the Japanese covered bridge, a traditional wooden house, and the Handicraft Center. We also met another UMichigan grad on the beach, which was random, as well as also four very interesting, nice, well-traveled and funny Brits. 


Friday afternoon, on our way out of town, we stopped at the Marble Mountains (which are exactly what they sound like) to see the pagodas at the top, then carried on to the airport.  We got into Hanoi pretty late but shared a cab with two Canadian boys to the Old Quarter, which is where all the foreigners stay.  The next day we went to the Museum of Ethnology, which is about the cutlure and history of various Vietnamese ethnic groups, but we also learned a lot about Vietnamese history in general.  We spent the afternoon roaming the city, spent time by the large lake in the middle of town, and saw the cathedral in town, which was built by the French in the late 1800s.  Hanoi isn't my favorite city in Vietnam, but luckily we aren't spending too much time here.  Tomorrow morning we are heading for an overnight trip to Halong Bay, which is supposed to be beautiful.  Tuesday we will probably go in the more rural areas north of Hanoi to see the rice fields and steppes.  Wednesday afternoon we will fly to Luang Prabang, another World Heritage site, in Lao.


Life is good here, although traveling so much does get exhausting.  Most of the people we've met are very nice but I still think that the Cambodians are nicer than the Vietnamese.  I'm feeling great and really enjoying the Vietnamese food; its much spicier and tastier than Cambodia's speciality of plain white rice. Ok, well time to go grab some dinner- probably noodle soup yet again.  Its amazing how many delicious permutations they have developed on such a simple dish.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Vietnam, Part 1

Haley and I left Phnom Penh early Sunday morning (we got only a few hours of sleep since we were up till 2am packing) and took a van, and then a boat to the Cambodia-Vietnam border. Then we switched to another boat and cruised the Mekong Delta for a few hours.  The Mekong may be one of my new favorite places.  As you go down the river, everyone, young and old, waves and smiles at you.  We had a great tour guide, a woman named San, and she took us to the best seafood place in town once we reached Chau Doc, the border town where we spent the night.  After a dinner of shrimp, crab, and squid roasted on a mini-barbecue on our table, I rode home on the back of her bicycle.  When we arrived back to the hotel at midnight, we found the doors locked and the streets deserted.  After 15 minutes outside banging on the door, ringing the bell, and phoning the guard, we finally get inside and crash, exhausted.  


On Monday morning we took another boat (really more of a dingy) to see a fish farm and a Cham (ethnic Vietnamese Muslims) village.  The fish farm was creepy but the village was beautiful.  We stopped to see a girl weaving a scarf in the traditional style and to play "kick the sandal" with a group of little boys.  We had a bit of scare when Haley fell down the stairs (it was raining pretty badly) but amazingly she was fine.  (Knock on wood, we think the Curse of the Black Panther is over.)  After that we took a minibus to Can Tho, another Mekong town, for lunch, then transfered to yet another bus for the ride to Saigon, which took about 4 hours and involved a ferry ride and yet another change of bus, as well as a stop at an alligator farm.  We also stopped to see how incense is made and to check out a pagoda.  


We arrived in Saigon in the late afternoon.  Saigon (also known as Ho Chi Minh City) is a sprawling, chaotic place.  Once there we booked some stuff at the travel agent, found a guest house, went to dinner and walked around a little bit.  Saigon is HUGE and moves at a much faster pace than PP, which is more like a charming big small town.  


Tuesday we went to the Cu Chi tunnels, which was a system of 200km of underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong in the war.  Our tour guide was a Vietnamese man (who looked strangely like Johnny Cash) who had served as a translator for the US Navy during the war, then was sent to a re-education camp for three years after Saigon fell.  We climbed through some of the tunnels which even I found claustrophobically small.  For 26 years (1949-1975) about 16,000 people lived in these tunnels- its remarkable.  Outside the tunnel complex we stopped to try some liquor with contains cobra, scorpion and gecko parts (and tastes like really cheap vodka).


Anyway, we got back from that around 4pm, grabbed some lunch and then headed to the market, which was filled with just about every clothing, electronic, or food item you could imagine.  We had dinner from a street vendor (noodle soup, the Vietnamese staple, which we also had for breakfast).  Street food never disappoints me, I love it.  Now its time to relax and repack our bags because tomorrow afternoon we are flying to Da Nang, where we will then catch a short bus to Hoi An, supposedly one of the most charming cities in Vietnam.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Cambodia, In Sum


I have not been a religious blogger, and long tales of our exploits will have to wait until I get home. For now, I'll just give you a quick list of some of the (mis)adventureswe've had, the trips we've taken, and some of the incredible people we've met.

*Siem Reap: Three days in the blazing heat for a vist to Angkor Wat; discovered the best breakfast soup/noodles in the world at a street stall; battled hordes of Japanese tourists for the best viewing locations.  Saw unforgettable, awe-inspiring temples, a tribute not so much to the gods as the determination, creativity, and devotion of a people.

*Kampot/Bokor Mountain:  Spent the night at a remote ranger station at the top of one of the southern mountains; hung out with our driver, named Tree, who survived the Khmer Rouge by living alone in the jungle for a year at the age of 19, after his entire family was killed by the KR; had an adult black panther jump in front our car, which cursed us with bad luck for a week.

*Mondulkiri: Took a hellish journey on 'the road the devil himself built' to the most remote and beautiful province in Cambodia; saw some hidden waterfalls and tried not to fall over the edge; I suffered from food poising on during the brutal 12 hour journey there.

*The Tailor Known As Grandma:  Had clothes custom made for us by a tiny, very wrinkly, adorable 78 year old woman who doesn't speak a word of English and wears the same sarong everyday, but has a great sense of fashion and can make absolutely anything in two days.

*Grandpa the Landlord: Hung out with our landlord (really the husband of our landlady), a charming old man who has lived all around the world directing oil and gas projects; he speaks about a dozen languages fluently, but choses to spend his days wearing a porkpie hat and guarding the door.

*Went to, and participated in, a traditional Khmer wedding, which includes a procession where people carry cases of beer and whole legs of lamb, and getting dressed up in non-matching guady outfits and putting on excessive amounts of clown make-up.

*Hung out with lots of sex workers, children of sex workers, garment workers, farmers, and HIV/AIDS patients both in the office and at their homes/places of work; the sex workers are obsessed with my nose; (actually thats true of most Cambodians who are surprised that someone with the same skin color as them looks so different).

*Visited the Killing Fields and Toul Sleng, a former KR secret prison, and talked to people about life under the KR. Heard stories that would make your blood curdle, but also tales of enduring love, friendship, bravery, perseverance, and the will to survive. 

*Checked out every market in town (and there are a lot) and know all the nicest, and most willing to bargain, sellers; also know, and have ridden with most of the moto-drivers in Phnom Penh, including a man with only one eye, a guy with a strong nervous twitch, and an amputee.

*And of course, I learned A LOT from the people in my office about the nature of international development, Cambodia, specific social issues, and what it means to devote yourself to projects you truly believe in.
 

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

The Curse of the Black Panther

If a black cat crosses your path, its considered bad luck.  If a REALLY big black cat crosses your path, its REALLY bad luck.  Here is proof.


Sunday, June 24, 2007, Bokor Mountain, Cambodia: 
An adult black panther crosses our path by leaping across the dirt road 50 feet in front of our  white1989 Toyota Camry, driven by Try (“Tree”).  It disappears back into the tall grass.  The curse begins.

Monday, June 25, 2007, Bokor Mountain: 
A private plane carrying 22 people crashes into the side of Bokor a few miles from where we saw the panther.  All aboard are killed.    

Tuesday, June 26, 2007, Phnom Penh: 
Haley receives an email saying that a friend of hers from Peace Corp Bangladesh was mauled and killed by a bear while trekking in Romania. 

Wednesday, June 27, 2007, Phnom Penh: 
Somewhere along the way I contract food poisoning, which will not manifest till the next day.

Thursday, June 28, 2007, On the road: 
            5:45am:  I throw up my dinner of spaghetti, vegetables, and tofu, along with some H. Pylori and antibiotics.  I chalk it up to waking up so early.
            6:59am:  Right before getting onto the bus for Mondulkiri I walk to the edge of the parking lot and throw up my breakfast of croissant and juice.  I feel better and decide to get on the bus.  Luckily, we are the first two seats on the bus, making it easier for me to jump out if I need to puke again.
            8:15am:  The bus gets a flat tire after only 1 hour of travel.  I get out and brush my teeth on the side of the road, then talk to two female Dutch backpackers and two male Canadian backpackers.  We get onto the bus 20 minutes later.
            12:30pm:  Arrive in Snoul, to change into the “Jeep” that will take us to Mondulkiri.  Roadside ‘restaurant’ is pretty dirty and neither of us is hungry, so we wait around for the Jeep.
            1pm:  A pick-up truck with canvas and metal rod roof and walls around the truck bed arrives.  We, along with the two Dutch girls and a tall British backpacking girl get into the back.  There are a few seats open in the cab.  Haley and I eat a croissant while we wait to leave. 
            1:05pm:  We are on a dirt road known in the Southeast Asia Lonely Planet guide as “the road the devil himself built”.  It is extremely bumpy and we all getting bashed against the metal bars of the roof and walls, as well as the fake wood slabs that make up the benches.  Our driver is absolutely insane, flying down the road and seemingly trying to hit all the major potholes, which are small ponds.  The initial fun of the previous five minutes has worn off and the croissant is making me nauseous.
            1:15pm:  We decide that some of us should make use of the seats in the cab.  The Dutch girls take the first shift. 
            2:00pm:  The three of us are violently flying around the truck bed like rag dolls.  Haley is afraid I will fall out the back the way I’m bouncing around.  We are gripping the bars of the roof and trying to anticipate extremely bumpy parts in order to avoid serious head injuries.  All of us look slightly green, as well as brown from being covered in dust from the road. 
            2:10pm:  I can’t contain the nausea and vomit out the back of the truck while its still moving.  They stop the car and all come out to see me vomit.  A nice Cambodian woman offers me balm.  I totally lose it and start crying out of exhaustion and embarrassment over puking in front of so many other people.  I take the seat of a Cambodian guy in the cab, where it is less bumpy.  Even he can’t deal with sitting back there and instead sits on the roof.  Poor Haley is stuck back there.
            3:00pm:  We stop so Haley and the Brit can sit in the cab.  The Brit is obnoxious.
            3:45pm:  We get to a village at the top of a hill and hope that it is Sen Monorom, our destination.  It is not.  We change into an SUV, a Land Rover.  There are seven of us.  Haley and I squish into the front seat after the Brit claims it can’t be done.  The three backpackers and the Cambodian lady get in the backseat.  The gearshift is poking my back and burning my leg simultaneously.
            5:00pm:  After more than an hour of listening to inane conversation among the backpackers, we arrive at the Arun Reah II Guesthouse and jump out without saying goodbye to the other girls.  They want to go to the Long Vibol guesthouse.
            5:30pm:  After checking in with Vichard, the charming 26 year old manager/owner and putting our stuff away, we go eat dinner.  I have some lime juice and a few bites of noodle soup before I have to run outside and throw up again. 
            6:30pm:  Having finally showered and gotten the dust off, we go to bed exhausted.  I have a few sips of water, then crash.  I am beat.
            9:00pm:   I wake up to puke up the few sips of water I drank and go to the bathroom.  Serious diarrhea has set in.  We decide that we should not go on the waterfall day trek tomorrow, then fall back asleep.

Friday, June 29, 2007, Sen Monorom: 
Blissfully, a day of sleep and not throwing up, although the diarrhea continues.  We go into “town” where we take some pictures of adorable local kids, have some dried watermelon seeds, and meet the Cambodian woman on our Jeep yesterday.  I order what feels like my 15th bowl of vegetable noodle soup and 1000th glass of lime juice.  We have another early night.   

Saturday, June 30, 2007, Sen Monorom:
9am-10:30am:  The Immodium is starting to work, finally.  We leave for our waterfall tour around 9am on motorbikes with rather young drivers.  The first 20km of the 37km trip to Bou Sraa falls (the largest waterfall in Cambodia) are fine, well-paved and our drivers are sufficiently cautious.  Then the road becomes hillier, bumpier and muddier, although not terrible.  We nearly both wipe-out several times and Haley is forced to get off and walk when her motorbike gets stuck in the 6in deep mud.  We reach the waterfall, walk around, try not to fall over the edge to the lower tier.  We get back through the mud without incident and head to the next fall.
10:30am-11:30am:  I notice that my motorbike’s gas gauge is reading zero.  I mention this to my driver, who repeatedly ignores my suggestion that we get some gas.  We drive to the next waterfall, eat lunch and leave.  The sky is getting dark.
12:00pm:  On our way to the last fall the sky is getting darker and it is raining on a few of the surrounding hills.  I ask if we should continue, given the remoteness and the fact that the road is dirt and liable to become rather muddy.  We decide to continue.  We get rained on pretty heavily for a while, but it passes.  Our drivers are becoming more daring.  Mine reaches 70km going downhill.
12:15pm-12:45pm:  Haley and I walk around the last waterfall by ourselves; the drivers decided to stay by the road.  We return to find one of them, the one who spoke a little English, gone.
12:55pm:  The other driver, along with a third guy in uniform, show up- with gasoline.  The drivers sheepishly fill up their tanks.  I say I told you so. 
1pm-1:30pm:  We head back to town.  My driver is now going 80km and purposefully trying to get me killed by randomly, suddenly braking.  Luckily we make it back to the Arun Reah intact. 
1:45-5pm:  We nap, read, and relax while it pours outside.  I have a crazy dream about trying to become seaweed.  
5:15pm-6:00pm:  More noodle soup and lime juice.  Neither Haley nor I feel great, and discuss how nice chicken soup would be right now.  We talk to some of the girls who work in the guesthouse about their lives, how they ended up in Sen Monorom.
6:15-8:00pm:  Hot showers and bed.
9:00pm:  My dad calls only to find me dead asleep.

Sunday, July 1, 2007, On the road:
            7:00am:  Waiting for our ride to Snoul to show up, when the Brit and the Dutch girls arrive.  We hope we are going in different cars.
            7:15am-7:30am:  We are not.  We cram into a big jeep with the girls, two young British guys, an overly touchy French couple who look like each other, and two Cambodian guys- eleven of us in the back.  Our driver is a wiry, middle-aged guy who seems a little crazy.  We finally depart after piling seven giant backpacks, various luggage and miscellaneous goods onto the roof. 
            7:30am-10am:  Two and a half hours of terror, obnoxious conversation, being smushed, and mud.  The top heavy jeep slides everywhere in the mud; luckily our driver is a pro and miraculously manages to prevent us from tipping over.  We strategize about what to do if the van tips- which windows to crawl out of, etc.  I get sick of hearing the Brit talking shit and go off on a rant about the complexity the public health issues surrounding HIV.  I stop when we nearly tip because I don’t want my last words to be “Planned Parenthood.”  We are unconsciously gripping each other in terror.  Our driver randomly starts shouting- he is either telling jokes or yelling about having to transport our foreign asses down the mountain.  We pass a few cars and trucks stuck in the mud.  We stop a few times to check on them.
            10:15am:  We arrive at the village where we changed cars on the way up.  This time we don’t change, but pile back into the van and brace ourselves for the bumpy, violent, devil-built road.
            10:15am-12:00pm: We road is terrible, muddy and bumpy, but its much less painful being in this car than in the bed of the pickup truck.  Still, we are all developing headaches from having our brains knocked around our skulls so much. 
            12:00pm: Right before going through a gigantic puddle/small pond, we get a flat tire.  We make it out of the puddle but are still stuck in 8in deep mud.  The other foreigners go sit in the shade and smoke; Haley and I stay to see how the hell they will be able to jack up the car in all the mud.  The wiry, crazy driver finds some slate and stacks them around the tire, and does manage to change the tire, albeit slowly.  We get back in and hope we don’t pop another one.
            12:15pm-1:00pm:  The last fifteen minutes of the ride we are all anxious to see if our buses to various cities are still in Snoul or have left without us.  When we arrive in Snoul, Haley and I jump out of the car and don’t bother to say goodbye to the backpackers.  Our bus isn’t there, but a middle aged woman in pajamas assures us it will be here soon. 
            1:00pm-1:15pm: Our bus to Phnom Penh arrives.  We get on and discover that the bus is totally full, more than full in fact- people are sitting on tiny plastic chairs in the narrow aisle.  Our ‘reserved’ seats are occupied.  We try to convince them that we should have seats, but they just shrug.  Haley is really furious, but I’m too tired to care and don’t see what they can do about it: overselling bus tickets is standard practice.  They put a few more child-size plastic chairs in the aisle for us and we squeeze down into them. The one English-speaking person, a very nice older man, assures us that we will get seats in an hour or so.  Five or six men are forced to stand near the door.  Because the aisle is lower, in my chair, my shoulders are at the elbows of the men on either side of me, and my face is unfortunately in the armpit zone.  About 90% of the passengers are middle-aged, sweaty men, so the bus smell pretty bad.  Diagonally behind me is a little boy, maybe five years old, whose eyes are light blue and white: he is blind, and adorable. He and his father are on their way to the nearest eye clinic, which is three hours from their village, and not much more than a guy with eyedrops.  
            1:15pm-3:30pm: We finally leave Snoul, and I fall asleep instantly, resting my head against the biceps of sweaty strangers.  I wake up whenever the bus makes stops, which is does frequently to drop off people right to their doors.  In Cambodia there is no such thing as an express bus.  Eventually enough men get off that we can get seats.  The man behind me in the aisle, who only has one good eye, tells me to take the two open seats.             
            3:30pm-6:30pm:  We drive some more, making stops to drop people off and for the men to pee in the street.  Because of my power nap in the aisle, I don’t feel tired anymore and spend the trip looking out the window at the vastly different landscapes and communities that make up Cambodia.  A little boy behind me is watching a horrible Cambodian version of James Bond on the bus TV and playing with my hair. 
            6:30pm-7:15pm: We arrive in Phnom Penh.  Although exhausted, we decide not to go home right away, but instead pick up groceries.  Sorya is crazy on Sundays, but we need food. Miraculously, the chicken soup I was craving is in Sorya, for the first time.  It’s the best thing to happen to us all day, apart from surviving the van and bus rides.  
7:30pm:  We finally arrive home.  Felix (aka the Gerber Baby) welcomes us back. 
7:45-8:45pm:  We eat our soups and relive the day, dissecting the many stupid things the Brit said.  We decide that our bad luck this weekend was caused by the black panther that crossed our path.  The Curse of the Black Panther is born.    



Friday, May 11, 2007

So-oos dai!


That means 'hello' in Khmai, a language that I am absolutely butchering but trying desperately to pick up.  It probably doesn't help that many of the people teaching it to me are sex workers who speak no English and only want to teach me obscene words or how to curse people out.  Nevertheless, I am starting to catch on to the language, and life more generally here in Phnom Penh. 
 
I arrived on Saturday and stayed at a beautiful guesthouse, right across from Tuol Sleng, a high school that was converted into a secret prison and torture center during the Pol Pot regime.  (It is now a museum, with the cells and torture equiptment still in place, pictures of all 17,000 people killed there, and their skulls; the place haunts you long after you leave.)  I spent the weekend sweating (its in the low 90s and incredibly humid here) and roaming the city, desperately in search of an ATM or a place to cash Traveller's checks. At one point I only had $3 in my posession (they don't take credit cards here), which was quite distressing, but in the end it gave me an excuse to walk around for 3 hours and see the city.  On Monday, while waiting for Haley to arrive (the other Ford School student on the Law School Cambodia program), I went to the chaotic "Russian Market" and purchased a helmet, possibly the most essential piece of clothing here.  There are no taxis or public transportation, so the most common way people get around is on the back of a moto-dup, aka a motorcycle taxi.  This may be the world's least safe way to travel, given that the motorcycles are usually about 20 years old, the driver only pretends to have a license, understand your directions or know which side of the road to drive on, there appear to be no traffic rules or speed limits, the streets are crowded by animals and vendors, and having your bag stolen by another bike seems pretty commonplace.  Regardless, its still a lot of fun and I enjoy it immensely. 
 
Once Haley arrived we started looking for an apartment, found one w/in 20 hours of beginning our search, (Haley, and the sketchy friend of one of the cooks  at the guesthouse, are geniuses at real estate) and moved in Wednesday morning.  We have the top two floors of a building on the riverfront, an area that is full of great restaurants and markets.  Our lovely apartment has 2 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, A/C, furniture, cable (including HBO!), and 3 private terraces, so we plan on hosting at least a few dinners for the other UofM students coming to Cambodia as well.  
 
While Haley was out apartment-hunting on Tuesday, I started my internship at WAC, the Womyn's Agenda for Change.  WAC is a local NGO (largely supported by Oxfam) that works for the empowerment of sex workers, garment workers, rural farmers and those people living with HIV/AIDS.  They are a pretty well known NGO here (probably because our office is a giant houseboat), and a pretty radical one as well.  They very anti-Bush, hate the WTO/IMF/WB, and refuse funding from USAID because of the conditions they put on how their money can be used.  (Actually, refusing USAID money is not uncommon here, since so many NGOs are working on behalf of sex workers, and USAID specifies that money can only go to organziations which outrightly oppose the establishment of legal rights for sex workers.  There are dozens of other conditions, most of which are anti-feminist and determined by conservative ideology.)  

Among a myriad of other things, WAC does a lot of oversight of government/donor funding, publishes papers on the conditions faced by garment workers, sex workers, and the economic conditions faced by rural farmers, and runs seven drop-in centers where women can organize their unions, get information, and receive sexual assault counseling.  Most of the staff are young, single women, many of whom are former garment workers themselves.  Because WAC donated a wing of the boat (its huge!) to it's partner, the Women's Network for Unity, Cambodia's largest sex worker union, we also get to hang out with the sex workers who make up WNU's executive committee.  They are a really friendly, interesting group of people, of varying ages and backgrounds; a large portion of WNU's members are transgender, and I've gotten to hear a lot about their unique experiences in Cambodian culture and the sex trade.  WNU is another surprisingly effective organization; through their lobbying all their 10,000 members receive free medical care at any public or private hospital, and in 2004 they managed to stop the trial of a anti-HIV prophalixis (not yet approved for human use) on its members, because of ethical concerns, which sparked a worldwide debate and movement among those people usually used as test subjects.  (The US company was going to pay the sex workers to stop using condoms and refused to provide them with health insurance or treatments if they did contract HIV.) 
 
So, given all this, what am I doing for them you ask?  Well, for the first few days I just read some of the dozens of reports that WAC has put out on a wide range of topics, which has really opened my eyes to the realities of third-world development.  (There is a huge number of obstacles facing Cambodia and it is remarkable just how ineffective all the foreign aid has been in helping the country get over any of them.)  Right now they have me working on a report about government expenditure and foreign aid on HIV/AIDS programs, and why most of the money allocated never reaches the people it is intended for.   Its fascinating stuff and I'm really enjoying it, although I miss working with actual clients as I did at the high school clinic; my Khmai is just not up to communicating the nuances of sexual health.  Right now I can barely direct my motodup driver back home!
 
Monday is a holiday (its the king's birthday) so Haley and I plan on spending the long weekend seeing the town and buying necessities for our new home. (We've already had one misadventure our first night trying to buy sheets and towels; we ended up getting stuck in the pouring rain in the evening with barely any cash left and no idea how to get home, until we found an English-speaker.)  The food here is delicious, although my co-workers keep taking me to the new malls here to eat American food, like pizza.  I have never seen a cuisine where absolutely everything comes covered in sausage and/or with sausage on the side.  Thank god I love processed meats.  
 
Speaking of processed meats, its time for lunch, so I'll stop rambling.  Once I do some things which actually warrant your time, I'll post again, but until then, know that I am thinking of you all and wishing that you could be here to enjoy this fantastic, sometimes overwhelming, but always exciting, experience!

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Zara? Blog?

So I never thought the day would come when I, Zara Ahmed, would write a blog. But since mass email leaves the possibility of people hitting 'reply all' and annoying each other, I've decided to join the 21st century and write a travel blog. Dont fear- this blog will discontinue upon my arrival back in the US, since no one wants to hear about what I make for dinner or how gray Ann Arbor is. But while I am overseas this will likely be your best source of info about my time in Southeast Asia, and beyond. So prepare yourself for stories about weird food, smelly public transport, unusual characters and total randomnesss. Of course, emails (and comments) are still VERY welcome, because I want to hear about your lives and adventures as well! (Yes, working the same job and living in the same place for years can still be interesting, at least to me.) So enjoy and know that I am thinking of each of you, and wishing you could be here to travel with me!
Lots of love,
Zara