Cambodia: Angkor Wat

Over the weekend Joe granted me the “privilege” of being a “guest author” on his blog. He built it up like he was bestowing upon me some impressive honor, but in reality he set a goal to finish blogging about Cambodia before we leave for China, and he is feeling slightly burned out. His solution: bring in Sami to finish the job while assuaging her ego in the process. He tried to sell me a bunch of crap about how I know more about the temples and history of Cambodia than he does. Blah blah blah. Whatever Joe. A word of warning- I probably won’t spend the entire time trying to write about farting, poop, and food, so if that is why you tune into Joe’s blog, you may not find me as entertaining.

We spent our final two days in Cambodia touring temples. We toured a total of 12 temples during our week in Cambodia, and 10 of those visits took place in those final two days. Scheduling two consecutive days of temple visiting was a mistake on my part, and temple fatigue definitely hit us hard, especially considering that the temperature was close to 100 degrees. Thank goodness for the camera because by the end of the second day my brain was completely overwhelmed and I could barely remember which temple was which.

We started the two days with a visit to Angkor Wat, in my mind the most impressive of all of the temples we visited. I booked a group tour so we would have a guide to provide us with information as we visited each temple. Unfortunately, I could barely understand a word our guide said. I can understand Konglish (Korean English) very easily, but I have a very difficult time understanding Indian English and Cambodian English, to the degree that it can be embarrassing. Luckily, Joe was more adept at deciphering what our guide was saying, so every now and then I would ask him to translate. Interestingly, Joe is not as good at understanding Konglish (he will tell you he is, but really, he isn’t). 

 I guarantee I can't understand a word he is saying.

As we walked along the path leading to Angkor Wat we were greeted by monkeys of all shapes and sizes, just chilling in the grass. At that point, Joe turned into a 10-year old boy. He gets so excited about animals, monkeys in particular. He of course wanted to play with the monkeys, but when the monkeys tried to steal his sunglasses things got a little tense. I tried to capture this moment on camera, but I got too excited and fumbled the camera. By the time I had things under control Joe had managed to retrieve his sunglasses and the monkey had moved on to shinier pairs of shades. 

 

 Moments before the monkey stole Joe's shades. 

 The detail in Angkor Wat is incredible. Almost every inch of its surface is covered in ornate carvings. It is staggering to consider the amount of manpower that went into constructing it, and even more staggering to contemplate the time and effort spent carving Hindu imagery all over the temple walls. As a history teacher, I was shocked at how accessible everything was at Angkor Wat. You can view almost every inch of the temple and there are few limitations on what you can touch. A couple of years ago I visited Mount Vernon and toured George Washington’s home. The tour was the worst I have ever been on. I felt like I was being herded through the home as quickly as possible, constantly being reminded not to touch anything. The experience at Angkor Wat was just the opposite, but the extreme accessibility of the temple was almost disconcerting. It is rumored that the Cambodian government has considered closing it off to the public in an effort to better preserve the ancient structure, but hopefully they will instead consider limiting the areas that people can view and encouraging people not to touch the walls and carvings that are slowly eroding. 

 Traditional Khmer apsara dancer.

 The walls are covered in carvings like this.

Crazy tourists like him need to be stopped!

There was one area of the temple that I was almost prohibited from viewing. Due to the extreme heat I wore shorts and a t-shirt that day, forgetting that I read online the importance of covering your knees when you visit the temples. Luckily two members of our tour group offered me their long-sleeved, button-up shirts, and I was able to construct a skirt and gain admittance to the only area of Angkor Wat that is restricted. It was a little annoying to constantly have to readjust the “skirt” and make sure my knees were covered, but overall it was worth getting the full Angkor Wat experience. 

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 A view of the skirt, front and back. 

 No Mom, this wasn't Joe's idea. The guide told us to take a picture here, so Joe doesn't get the credit.

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Cambodia: Tonle Sap

I flicked the T.V. on back at the Kazna just in time to see Gerald Wallace half jog up to the hoop, softly jumpstop, rise with his back to the basket, and daintily drop the ball through the rim behind his head. What was this? A warm-up routine? The TNT analysts were equally perplexed by the lack of creativity. I later learned that the 2010 Slam Dunk Contest was easily the most pathetic ever. Thankfully, I didn't waste time watching it unfold. The front desk called to inform us that a van carrying passengers headed for Tonle Sap, the largest lake in Southeast Asia, was waiting.

The section of lake we entered into looked more like a muddy river. We walked down a massive flight of wooden stairs and across the dusty, dried out lake bottom to get to our passenger boat. During the monsoon season, the lake swells to six times its size.

 This is a floating basketball court. Hopefully, some of the villagers have a consistent game going with more intensity than the dunk contest I saw earlier...

The covered wooden boat held Sami and me and about eight or 10 international passengers. We heard Chinese, German, and an indecipherable language. Since our Cambodian tour guide used English exclusively, he spent most of the time chatting with us. He offered us an Angkor beer which, even warm, I couldn't pass up.

I was only halfway through my hot beer when the driver cut the motor and let us out and into a makeshift museum floating among scattered homes. As we exited single file, the driver's young son stood on the bow and implored "wanyourhehplee" (watch your head please). He said this a dozen or so times, once to each passenger, and another dozen times when we got back in. In all we either left or came back to the boat eight times, and each time he was a little more confident with his English.

The museum was straight out of the Bates Motel with an Apocalypse Now vibe. There were fascinating images detailing the floating village and the everyday lives of its villagers, as well as the importance of Tonle Sap's ecosystem to the people of Cambodia. Some of the pictures and wood carvings of cranes and crocs creeped me out. I wouldn't want to spend a night alone in that place. I left with a shudder and the now familiar "wanyourhehplee."

Next, we stopped off at a large floating souvenir shop that tripled as a restaurant and crocodile farm. We were starting to attempt to manage our money a little better (earlier in the day, Sami had vetoed my idea of purchasing a bootlegged copy of Mad Men Season 3 for $15. I am still bitter) so we did not buy anything. Also, the crocodiles didn't look as menacing down in their watery, wooden homes. Back in the boat. "Wanyourhehplee."

Our final destination was a two level, floating restaurant out in the heart of the lake. We could not see the shore in any direction. The water lost its green/brown color in the setting sun. If you would have dropped me down from the sky and told me I was in the middle of the ocean, I would have believed it.

Most of our party hustled to the top deck of the boat. We went up and looked around, but there weren't any seats left. Luckily, downstairs on the back end of the boat, slightly raised from the main floor were two low-lying hammocks. Our tour guide offered us a complimentary drink menu and I ordered a Jim Beam. This was my first taste of whiskey in six months and it was delightful. My ears warmed immediately and it reminded me of being back in college where we used to drink an ounce shot of Jim Beam chased in a jigger with Dr. Pepper (and now that I think back on it, I can't believe we drank that much soda. Gross). I had three more Jim Beams and was feeling comfortably numb.

At one point Sami looked at me and said "we are in the middle of a lake in Cambodia." It was surreal. That moment, I felt as peaceful and content as I have ever been in my life. At that moment, on Lake Tonle Sap at sunset, I learned a lesson I will never forget. Soak in the moment. From now on, all of my future traveling will be done with the intention of recapturing that feeling.

I sloppily devoured my dinner of sweet and sour fish like a drunk person. Too soon, it was time to leave. "Wanyourhehplee."

We left in the darkness, batted mosquitos and looked up at every star in the galaxy. Tomorrow we visit Angkor Wat.

Note: This is the next to last post on our Cambodia trip. The final installment will be guest authored by Sami Hayden Boyd

Cambodia: Day 3

During our third full day in Cambodia, we woke up early enough that I was able to catch Steve Nash nonchalantly dribble through a series of staggered mannequin defenders and deliver a one handed bounce pass into a netted target. This was NBA All-Star weekend, and I was happy to catch a few minutes of basketball, no matter how arbitrary the competition. Watching him maneuver effortlessly through the obstacle course got me thinking about my brief encounter with the two-time MVP- my only real celebrity encounter (conversely, seeing Derron Williams got me thinking about how much product the dude must lather onto his his lid. Have you seen his hair? It seriously looks like someone poured motor oil on a freshly cropped poodle).

This was 2007 at the height of Nash's popularity. I was in Phoenix for a work conference and decided to stay the weekend to visit my college buddy Greg, take in a Diamondbacks game and eat a ton of great Mexican food. I love Mexican food. Unfortunately, the few friends and family who know me extremely well (along with people next to me in an elevator or long flight) are aware of my penchant for horrendous bouts of flatulence. Obviously, Mexican food exacerbates this personal problem.

All of my dormmates in college shared a special bond over music, sports, movies etc., but our shining legacy will always be the smell that still permeates those walls nearly a decade later. We were all firm believers in the theory that if you never lifted your leg and pushed a dirty fart in the direction of one of your friends, how good of a friends can you really be?

We lived on the first floor without windows on either side. While the other three floor could air out their hallway, we had no such luxury. The end result was a mixture of ass, balls, feet, puke and protein powder. Basically, it smelled like John Wayne Gacy's crawlspace.

So, given our history, I figured Greg would be impervious to my poop-gas. He was, to a degree (he only mustered a few dry heaves and between gags coined the brand "Hugo Anuse" because I had earlier stolen a few sprays of his Hugo Boss cologne), but I don't think his mom was. I am pretty sure that I turned her white walls tan, or at least beige and am consequently banned from all Mexican food in Phoenix- even Chino Banditos fusion Chinese/Mexican restaurant (sweet and sour chicken quesadilla anyone?).

Anyway, later that night after I hosed myself down, we headed out to Scottsdale to meet up with a few of Greg's friends. We went to a nightclub that was extremely trendy and out of my comfort zone. There was a strict dress/no fart code. At about 1:30 or so, as the place was about to close I went to the men's room. My phone rang. It was Greg.

"Dude, Steve Nash is here, I just saw him walk by. Hurry and get out here."

At that moment I looked to my right and saw Steve Nash peeing two urinals down. I went to the sink and washed my hands for about triple the amount of time I normally would. The restroom attendant was extending paper towels closer and closer, enticing me to finish up, but I was onto him. I wasn't going to pass up my first ever celebrity encounter. When Steve finally approached, I offered this:

"Hey man, I am a Blazers fan, but I love your game."

He looked at me with his drunk eyes and said "Hey, thanks man. I really appreciate that."

And that was it. Kind of anti-climactic, I know, but hey, at least I got to keep my streak of talking about inappropriate bodily functions alive.

When we were leaving, Steve walked past us wearing shorts and black, low-cut Chuck Taylor's (two time MVPs don't need a dress code). He was with a woman who was not his wife, but he did not leave with her. Also, he isn't an inch over six feet tall. I say 5'11". The best part was that there was a nice Cadillac Escalade with a driver waiting and we thought for sure it was Nash's, but nope. He went directly to an ABC cab. In retrospect, maybe we should have offered him a ride, taken him through a drive-thru, taking him home to wake up Greg's dad so he could have said hi...

Back in the hotel room, I didn't even have a chance to find out if my old buddy Steve won the skills competition or not. We had a busy day ahead, and breakfast was upstairs waiting. As I mentioned before I had the Khmer breakfast of dried fish, dried egg and rice porridge. Thank goodness for the bland porridge because the fish and egg were very salty.

The first place we visited was Bakheng Mountain, the number one tourist spot for viewing Angkor Wat from a distance and sunset. We had seen pictures of all of the crowded tourists and it was a madhouse. Not our scene at all. We went in the morning and my number one goal was to ride an elephant up to the top. Unfortunately, there were no elephants to be seen at this particular time, so we hoofed it up on foot.

The temple at the top featured steep, narrow steps that you had to walk up sideways and was undergoing quite a bit of restoration. There was a pretty good view of Angkor Wat from the top, but it was a little hazy out.

 In this picture I think that I am flexing to try and make my arm bigger, but it only accentuates the fact that I have tiny forearms. Maybe it would help if I did some reverse grip curls...or if I didn't have narrow wrists like a girl. Also, you can see Angkor Wat in the background.

 Sadly, no elephant rides for the Boyds. Maybe another time.

Next we visited the Cambodia Landmine Museum. This project was started by a former child soldier of the Khmer Rouge whose job was to set landmines. He claims that he set thousands of land mines and hundreds of innocent victims were either killed or seriously maimed because of the work he was ordered to do. If he had refused, he would have been killed.

He later fled to Vietnam, joined their army and fought against the Khmer Rouge. He now spends his time deactivating the same land mines he planted and has created an orphanage to help the families of those who have lost loved ones to mines, or have been maimed themselves.

Some of the pictures in the museum are quite graphic, and it was a sobering experience to learn of the atrocities that took place in the country that we were growing fonder of by the day.

One of the more interesting facts we took back with us was just how heavily bombed Cambodia was during the Vietnam War. The Vietcong crossed the border into Cambodia as part of the Ho Chi Minh trail. The Khmer Rouge was able to use the U.S. bombings as a way to rally support.

 
We also learned that the U.S. has refused to sign an anti-landmine treaty that has been signed by over 150 countries because it does not offer a "Korean exception." Landmines are a critical component of our military strategy in South Korea.

In stark contrast to the Cambodia Landmine Museum is the Angkor Butterfly Center located just up the road, which we visited next. The goal of the center is to preserve the butterflies native to Cambodia. It was also created as community outreach to help develop the community. Locals farm these butterflies and sell the pupae to the Center.

I wanted to take pictures of every butterfly that landed, but they were pretty pesky, also Sami was hungry and wanted Mexican food. I thought back to my time in Phoenix, and hoped this time would work out a little better. We stopped back at the hotel before going out to eat, and the All-Star dunk contest was just starting. Perfect timing.


Coming in Part 6: Lake Tonle Sap

Ice Cream Bar

I was inspired to write this after a friend sent me a step by step explanation of how you become owned by a sandwich.

I have eaten very few sandwiches here in Korea, but I have consumed many an ice cream bar. Lately I have become borderline obsessed with this little guy.

If you eat this the conventional way, by holding the stick and taking a bite out of the top (and really, what moron wouldn't? I am convinced you can give it to a monkey and it would hold the stick and bite the top. Maybe one of the dumber monkeys would use two hands and eat it like corn on the cob. Stupid monkeys.) it tastes like coconut. Not raw coconut, sweetened mind you.

Sami says that it doesn't taste like coconut, rather ice-milk, but I say baloney. If anyone knows about coconut and all its glory, it's me. I am the coconut master. I'll prove it:

Almond Joy is my favorite candy bar and my favorite cake is German Chocolate (after ice cream cake and any cake with rainbow chip frosting. Oooh! and red velvet cake too. Or any really moist chocolate cake, but none of that store bought crap! Anyway, after that German Chocolate is my fave for sure. Wait, cheesecake isn't really cake right?). Proof enough?

As the Coconut Master, I declare the flavor of the start of this ice cream bar to be coconut.

 Just look at that heavenly coconut (non-ice milk) glow

It is funny because I used to hate coconut as a kid and now I love it. It is that way with all of my favorite foods: onions, tomatoes, mushrooms...I am even beginning to be able to stomach cantaloupe, which would have been unheard of even a few years ago (by the way, I apologize for throwing in talk of mushrooms and tomatoes when we were in cake and ice-cream land. That's just wrong).

Basically, I am beginning to pride myself on enjoying, or at the very least tolerating everything made out of food. Except the other day I bought some dried octopus "jerky." It was black and tasted like a cross between Beech Nut chewing tobacco and the ocean's anus. I gave it away to a couple of my students the next day and they reacted as if one of Willy Wonka's golden tickets was tucked away in the tentacles. They love that stuff.

After slurping down the coconut ice milk, the bar reveals its first pleasant surprise- a hard chocolate shell. I prefer to take a delicate bite of the outer shell and carefully avoid the encased ice cream. The feel and sound of the cracking of hard chocolate on my teeth is quite pleasant.

The second surprise lies just underneath- cookies n' cream. Because plain old vanilla (or coconut) would have been too easy.

 Gettin soupy! It is blurry to me because I am drunk on flavor.

Now I am not going to lie and say that C n' C (the flavor not the music factory) is my number one. I am and always will be a mint chocolate chip guy. There is no mint chocolate chip here in Korea though. At least I haven't found it. I dunno, maybe it reminds them of toothpaste or something. If you see green ice cream it is either melon (ew) or green tea (which tastes like barley).

Speaking of, I remember reading that Timothy McVeigh's last meal was two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Not a bad choice considering the only thing that could cure an ice cream headache after two pints is a jolt of high voltage electricity to the temple. Still, why not go pulled pork sandwich, mac n' cheese, baked beans AND the ice cream?

However, even though it is not my first choice, cookies n' cream is always a hit and I can prove it: I know you have your favorite Blizzard from DQ- mine is Heath bar and, of course, Banana Cream Pie is a refreshing seasonal summertime treat- but no matter what it is, you always go back to Oreo and it never disappoints.

So that's it. Nothing but the stick left. It only took three minutes (okay two) to ingest three separate desserts, magically frozen into one bar. I want another one. At 700 wan (about 65 cents) I just might go for it.

Say Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh

Cambodia: Day 2

 The undisputed highlight of our honeymoon over Christmas and New Year's was a tour of a local Fijian village, inland on the island of Viti Levu. We initially viewed this Sigatoka River Safari excursion as an unwelcome respite from reading paperbacks, applying sunscreen and sipping cocktails in one of the most beautiful locations in the south Pacific- something to do just to say we did it. However, immersing ourselves in the culture of the local villagers and seeing the simple way they lived and loved  and welcomed us into their home had a lasting impact on us. From now on, whenever we traveled, we would search for this feeling of authenticity. We would do our best to learn more about the world we live in through the places we visit.

So with this in mind we eagerly anticipated the countryside quad riding tour Sami had planned for our second full day in Cambodia.

A rooster in the alleyway on the other side of our hotel room wall woke us before our alarm did. The folks at the Kazna were kind enough to serve us our breakfast a little before the official restaurant opening. My potato omelette was good. I never asked, but I imagine Sami's eggs and toast tasted the same as they did the morning before.

This was a half day tour, and I was happy that we were going in the morning. The afternoon heat was brutal. I wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt to shield my translucent skin from the sun's harmful ultraviolet rays.

We arrived at the house that served as a business office for the tour guide, loaded up with water, mounted our four-wheelers and were briefed. Turn the handle toward you to accelerate and keep a safe distance.

We safely navigated between hordes of kamikaze beat up trucks and motor scooters through the busiest intersection on the edge of town. The pavement turned to gravel, which turned to red dirt. All of the fields next to the road were perfectly flat with worn grass and weeds. Palm and coconut trees jotted through the landscape along with simple, beat up houses (many on stilts to protect from flooding) which contained private vegetable gardens.

I was immediately drawn to the animals. The white cows interspersed throughout the meager fields were much thinner and taller than the beefy, corn-fed variety I've grown so accustomed to in eastern Oregon. There were also pigs, dirty, skinny dogs and oxen. The most curious creatures to me were the horrendous looking chickens that roamed the land freely with their chicks. They were comically skinny with wart covered faces.

The children also made an impression. The sound of our motoring ATVs acted as siren calls to the kids and they would come sprinting to greet us- some of them clothed, some nude. Every time we passed a youngster they waved excitedly and shouted "hello!" They were almost as happy to see us as our Korean students are every day at school. Almost.

The fact that these kids were at home waving at us and not in school was not lost on us. Later in the week, while we were visiting temples we were constantly bombarded by local children to purchase souvenirs. We were certain that there must be some adult somewhere putting these cute kids up to it, but what can you do? Since the last of the Khmer Rouge was defeated 10 years ago, the tourism industry has boomed in Cambodia. In a country where the average family lives on $2 USD a day, of course it makes sense to capitalize on the boom.

We had the privilege of visiting an orphanage along the way and got to meet a couple of the orphans who live in the quarters set up there. When I asked one of the boys what he wants to be when he grows up, he did not hesitate.


"A tour guide," he said.

That told me all I need to know. Not a doctor. Not a professional athlete. A tour guide. At this point in time a tour guide is the most prestigious position in Cambodia.

After our trip, we spent a good portion of the afternoon visiting the Angkor National Museum. Being in the presence of sandstone Buddhas carved nearly 800 years before the U.S as we know it was even established was mind blowing. It is also unfathomable to imagine how a dynasty so primitive to ours can have the foresight to organize hundreds of thousands of people to move rock hundreds of miles away over 30 years to create Angkor Wat. Absolutely incredible.

Back on Bar street that evening, Sami and I decided to stop by one of the fish foot massage pools on the street. These are pretty popular in Korea too, but in all of the pictures I have seen, they don't have nearly as many fish as these on the street in Siem Reap. The little guys were hungry and aggressive and absolutely pulverized the dead skin on our feet. My girlish screams, a result of the torturous tickling, turned heads from all passers-by.

Finally, on our walk back to the Kazna, I stepped in to a barbershop for a quick buzz. As the skilled and confident barber whacked away, undeterred by the language barrier, I couldn't help but think how fortunate I was to experience something so completely different than anything I had ever been exposed to before. This, combined with my time spent the Fijian village, had strengthened my resolve to see as much of the world, and as many different cultures as I can. My life, as I knew it less than a year ago had completely changed. I wanted more.

But first, it was back to the Kazna to order the next morning's breakfast. While I am on the authentic kick, why not order the traditional Khmer breakfast- rice porridge, dried, salted fish, dried, salted egg and fruit.

Coming in Part 5: Lake Tonle Sap