Becca in Wanderlust

It has been a looooong time since my last blog post.  Perhaps I get intimidated by the hours it takes to upload photos from Banlung! I have been hard at work, but decided to take a holiday to celebrate my birthday last week. After all, it was the big 2-5, and I decided to close out the first quarter-century of my life with a trip to Vietnam! As I write this, I am back at my desk in Banlung, amusedly listening while the construction workers next door sing along to Ke$ha. Loudly.

Saturday, the 23^rd of June, I headed south to Phnom Penh.  Previously, on my way up to Rattanikiri, I experienced the speedy, and slightly scary, mini-van service that is popular with locals.  For this trip from Rattanikiri, I opted for the much cushier mega-bus, run by Sorya Transportation Co.  Similar to the mini-vans, the bus company didn’t seem too concerned with leaving on time. I was picked up 30 minutes late, and we slowly packed in.  There were at least ten empty rows, but the attendant insisted that I sit in my assigned seat. So I clambered over an elderly Khmer woman and squeezed myself into my spot at the window beside her, Seat 12.

I could hear people around me talking about me, the “baraang” foreigner.  So I told them in Khmer that I understood, though I had really only caught a few words.  The lady next to me apologized, and proceeded to hold my hand for literally the first two hours of the trip, stroking the inside of my forearm and admiring my pale skin while I slept.  Throughout the trip she asked me a lot of questions, and I stumbled through answers about where I was from and why I was in Banlung. Sometimes I had no idea what she was saying, and I simply responded with “jaa.”  At stops, fairly often, she bought snacks for us. The banana chips were delicious, but I struggled to swallow a few tubes of the pickled fish paste that she gave me, to be polite.

For the most part, the bus trip was pleasant. I had a great view out my window, I caught up on some Khmer grammar, my seat fully reclined, and the A/C was so strong that I had to pull my blanket from my backpack.  We watched Cambodian music videos for the entire drive, which are entertaining to say the least.  The downside to the bus was that we took our sweet time getting to Phnom Penh.  Purportedly an “11 hour” bus ride, we left Banlung at about 7:00 AM, and didn’t make it to the capital until nearly 8:00 PM. The minivan would have had me in Phnom Penh at about 3:30 in the afternoon.

When we arrived at the bus station, I proudly used Khmer to negotiate a moto ride and give directions to Ali, Abby and Art’s house. We headed immediately out to a party at friend’s house, where we had sausages, drinks, and an intense Jenga session. Afterwards, we went to the Champs – Elysées Hotel for some fancy karaoke.  So you know, all karaoke houses in Cambodia basically double as brothels. We obviously didn’t partake in that optional service, but we did sing some cacophonous renditions of Eagles hits and “My Heart Will Go On.” The last stop of the night was a bar called Equinox, to watch the European “football” tournament, live, at 3 AM.

On Sunday, I was not feeling 100%.  I ate a delicious (expensive, $3.75) breakfast at a French restaurant in Phnom Penh. I saw Prometheus in 3D at the theatre, which was creepy. Afterwards, as a pre-birthday treat to myself, we went to Bodia Spa, a fancy place next to the National Museum.  The spa feels very western, with prices that clearly aim to solicit tourists and expatriates. I splurged ($23.00) on a relaxing massage with rosemary oil.  Bodia is immaculately clean, with hot showers in each room, modern decoration, a serene pond in the lobby, and receptionists with refined English ability.  Still, there were charming Asian touches, like chilled lemongrass-ginger tea to start your visit, on a tray alongside hot towels and beautifully folded lotus blossoms. For only about $4.00, a Khmer massage is usually great! But, it was nice to be able to fully de-robe for a change.  We finished the day with some surprisingly delicious Mexican food.

Monday, I felt worse. During the day, I made it over to Agugu’s to say hello. In the evening, I went to another movie. This time at Flicks, the cozy community theatre, with big mamasan chairs and plush mats to lie down on.  I saw Sin Nombre for 3 bucks, which was a fantastic foreign movie.

Tuesday was my birthday! But, I felt even worse.  I pulled myself up out of bed to go to a British doctor, recommended by the US Embassy. He did lab work and apparently I had Dengue Fever in my bloodstream, which could be the reason why I had such a high fever just little while ago and why I have been so fatigued. I also had a secondary bacterial infection, which was the real killer. I picked up medicine, and spent the rest of the day in bed. My roomies roused me in the evening, and took me to Mama’s New York Deli, which is run by a Khmer lady who worked in NYC for 30 years. She makes an seriously amazing corned beef sandwich on rye. Once back home, I was surprised with a beautiful sampling of 12 little cupcakes, from a bakery run by an NGO. We sat around and tasted them all. The Oreo Cream Cheese was definitely the favorite, followed by the White Chocolate Macadamia. So delicious. All in all a restful, tasty birthday.

On Wednesday morning I was off on a 6-hour bus ride to Vietnam. Crossing the border was relatively quick, as Vietnam requires visitors to arrange a visa ahead of time. I hadn’t done any research about Ho Chi Minh City, AKA Saigon, and was blindly heading into the city alone.  So, I borrowed an outdated Lonely Planet guide from an Aussie across the aisle.  We arrived at about 3 and, from the notes I had jotted down, I was able to get myself to a central area, close to the sites that I planned on seeing. The hostel I chose was squished into a narrow alley, 15 floors of one room each. I was thrilled to the luxuries of a balcony, a hot shower, a seated toilet, a thick mattress, and an incredibly high-powered A/C unit.

Traveling solo in a new city is an amazing experience, especially in one that speaks a challenging foreign language. I have been abroad in the past, but always to places with a group or at least another friend. Wandering around alone is intimidating to me, but exciting.  In each new city, there is a learning curve for being comfortable.  Initially, I pick a destination, figure out my route, and head out into the city on foot.  I never feel that alone.  Solo travelers seem to find each other.  I share drinks and meals with strangers, chat with other “baraangs” on the bus, etc., despite the fact that I will never see them again.

It was already late afternoon in Saigon, but being an avid phô-lover, I immediately hoofed it over to Phô 2000 for dinner.  I devoured a fantastically authentic bowl of the Vietnamese staple, surrounded by pictures of President Clinton during his trip to the shop. Since his visit, the sign out front has been changed, to include the slogan: “Phô for the President.” Afterwards, passing a Louis Vuitton, a Chanel, and numerous other fancy boutiques, was a clear sign that I was no longer in Cambodia. I made my way to the Saigon Sheraton, to visit the notorious 23^rd-floor, open-air bar. Once up the elevator, I looked out over the sprawling city at a spot next to the rail, despite the rain. My first (pricey) Long Island Iced Tea went down the hatch too quickly, and I had to buy another one to make it through the sunset. It was worth it. I stayed for at least 2 hours, while the sun retreated and the city lights came to life. Absolutely beautiful, an amazing end to my first day as a 25-year-old.

After downing some French pastries, Thursday’s agenda began with the Hồ Chí Minh Museum, once known as Gia Long Palace.  The exhibits were historical and informative. Several students in a Vietnamese school group snapped my picture as we wandered through the wing documenting protests of US involvement, which was a bit awkward as an American. From outside, the building is beautiful, built during French occupation.  The grounds were lush, and contained antique vehicles, aircrafts, and Vietnamese military equipment.  After the French withdrawal, Gia Long Palace had served as the temporary residence of Ngô Đình Diệm, first president of South Vietnam. He lived there while his main home (Reunification Palace, which I visited later) was being re-built after a rebel bombing.  Diệm installed a bunker and an extensive tunnel system beneath Gia Long, which was one of the most interesting things to see. He used these underground passageways to escape during a coup in 1963, but was assassinated soon after.  

The number of motorcycles on the road in Vietnam is simply overwhelming.  Leaving the museum, I was incessantly hounded by drivers wanting my business.  Happily using my own two feet, I quickly arrived at my next stop, the War Remnants Museum, just a few blocks away.  It was apparently once called “The House for Displaying War Crimes of American Imperialism and the Puppet Government of South Vietnam.”  As the former name suggests, the museum is extremely critical of America and South Vietnam, but does not discuss questionable war efforts by the Viet Cong or North Vietnam.  While the content is skewed, it still realistically portrays atrocities of war.  Photographs of civilian massacres and the destructive effects of Napalm made me not-so-proud of America.  The Agent Orange exhibit was particularly disturbing, I just cannot believe that we utilized this chemical. There were numerous photographs of resulting deformities, and even a few misshapen fetuses preserved in formaldehyde.  Less graphic was the Anti-American propaganda exhibit, with images of war protests from around the world.

I ate another bowl of phô, this time at Phô 24, and I opted for beef rather than chicken.  Delish. Then, I headed over to Reunification Palace.  The palace looks surprisingly like an 80’s office building from outside, but the interior is lavishly decorated and spacious, with long hallways surrounding glass-walled rooms.  The current structure replaced the older Norodom Palace, which was home to the French Governors of Cochinchina.  After the French signed the Geneva Accords, Norodom Palace became the home to Ngô Đình Diệm, the first leader of South Vietnam.  As mentioned before, rebels bombed the older palace, and Diệm temporarily resided in Gia Long Palace while he commissioned the construction of the new building. World-renowned, Vietnamese architect Ngô Viết Thụ designed the present Palace, but Diệm was assassinated before completion in 1966.  The Palace passed to the next president, Nguyễn Văn Thiệu, who led South Vietnam during the Vietnam War.  This is evidenced by the extensive basement, which obviously doubled as a wartime headquarters.  Thiệu fled the nation a few days prior to the fall of Saigon, when a North Vietnamese tank bulldozed through the gates of the Palace and officially ended the war.

With the three main tourist sites under my belt, I wandered around town. I checked out the tallest building in town, the night market, and the riverfront.  Of course, I opted for another bowl of authentic phô for dinner on the street.  Stopping in for Tutti Fruitti Frozen Yogurt made me feel like I was in America.  The American vibe continued while I drank a Coors Light, though the “Cold as the Rockies” slogan was definitely written in Vietnamese, which made me laugh.

After an early night and plenty of sleep, I spent the next morning searching the aisles of Bến Thành Market, a must-see in Saigon and my last stop.  The massive market is similar to those in Phnom Penh, but it is cleaner, stocks higher-quality goods, and is flooded with tourists. The vendors are equally pushy, but I did help my bargaining to inform them that I live in Cambodia and I could just buy something there for cheaper.  I found some great treasures for my friends, a colorful backpack and a beautiful set of chopsticks for me.

I was off to the bus station early in the afternoon. Departure was delayed for 2 ½ hours, and customs at the border was a slight headache. Apparently I have to leave the country by July 29^th, so I think a trip to Laos is in order. We arrived in Phnom Penh at close to 8:30. I was tired. Agugu faithfully picked me up, and I chatted with my friends for a bit before bed.  Early the next morning, I was off to meet my taxi to take me back home.  A quick, exhausting trip, but it’s good to be home in Banlung!

Remember guys, we’ve been celebrating the King’s Birthday! Sidenote: King Norodom Sihamoni is gay.  One of the few US channels that we receive in Cambodia is CNN, which has recently focused extensively on the Obama vs. Romney opinions of gay rights.  It makes me wonder what the Cambodians think, when they have been through so much, and the politics of the most prominent country in the world outwardly centers on such a trivial issue. Sihamoni’s father, and the former King, has previously stated that he believes that God views homosexuals as equal because “[He loves] wide range of tastes.” On the other hand, the Prime Minister publicly disowned his adoptive daughter for being a lesbian.  Regardless, same-sex marriages are tolerated, and the government typically does not get involved. I like that.

Also, for anyone who missed the last blog post, it is intense but informative.  It helps explain Cambodia’s dark past and why I am here volunteering.

Cambodia has been very fun, I saw a ton of new places while running errands on Monday. I met up with Ali, a fellow law student who had my position in Banlung last year.  I am inspired by Ali’s Khmer language skills, which she primarily developed while living in Banlung.  I will practice a ton and work with a tutor; I hope to similarly converse conversationally by the end of the summer.  I am catching on a teensy bit, starting slow with Hello and Thank You. This is nothing like Spanish. Ali received an amazing fellowship that will allow her to stay in Cambodia for a full year until May 2013. This fellowship recognizes the need for experts in the languages and cultures of underrepresented nations. They award grants for graduate students to participate in cultural immersion, in exchange for a minimum 12-month employment commitment with one of 4 US “priority” agencies, including the Department of Defense, the Department of Homeland Security, the Department of State, or or the CIA. I am actually interested in looking into the application process.

So, after eating a delicious bowl of shrimp and meatball tom yum on Monday morning, I went to get my phone and USB Internet Modem set up at Metfone, with Ali’s help. I got a used phone, and was surprised to turn on the phone and find that the banner is set as “Voyeur tapes teens shower.” Interesting, creepy. This makes me kindof curious as to who owned this phone prior to me. We also headed over to the Russian Market, an amazing spot with local vendors selling anything that you can think of, car parts, clothes, CDs, DVDs, meats, fish, fruit, vegetables, etc. It was incredibly hot within the market, I was literally dripping with sweat.  Pretty much all the food that I have been eating lately initially comes from here, so it was cool to see. I made sure to include a few pics. I picked up an interesting fruit with a gooey center and a name that I cannot pronounce, a little notebook to help me remember Khmer words, as well as a new motorcycle helmet for $15. Our last stop was the supermarket. It is always fun to see what brands foreign countries carry, as well as pricing.  Huge bottles of water run at about 40 cents, while Honey Nut Cheerios are close to $6/box.

I have enjoyed my frequent tuk tuk driver.  He is our same age, is making conversation and cracking jokes, like how he has to have money to get a “hunny.” On Monday afternoon, I asked him if he would take me to Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. I mentioned Tuol Sleng in my last post, the former security office and prison, one of three similar compounds used by the Khmer Rouge. Once the grounds for Tuol Sleng primary and secondary schools, “S-21″ was created on orders of Pol Pot in April of 1975. Pol Pot had already forced city dwellers to the country side, to labor in conditions close to slavery. The four buildings at S-21 were used for detention, interrogation, torture and killing. The prisoners that passed through here were well-documented, just like at Choeung Ek. And, just like my visit to Choeung Ek, it poured.

The compound is eerie, upsetting. It is surrounded by two rows of corrugated iron fence, topped with dense coils of barbed wire.  Once, the front of all the buildings were covered in a sheet of woven barbed wire, so prisoners could not jump down. The former classrooms in buildings B, C, and D were either used as large cells, or were converted to blocks of cells for individual prisoners. The cells for individuals were crudely created of wood or brick, and were not any bigger than 2 feet wide by 2 meters deep. However, now only Building C is remains unchanged, with cells intact and barbed wire still on the face. Building A contained bigger rooms, furnished with a bed, blanket, a bucket for waste, and glass-paneled windows to muffle the screams of torture. This building was used primarily for cadres, leaders accused of promoting an uprising against Pol Pot.

A wooden structure, formerly a Tuol Sleng swingset, became the gallows of S-21.  However, these gallows were used as a torture device for interrogations, not necessarily for killing.  Prisoners were hung upside-down by their feet until they were unconscious, then they would be shocked awake by a guard dipping their head in an enormous pot of dirty water.  Pictures of the former chief guard of the S-21 system, Kang Keck Iev, AKA “Duch,” appear throughout the museum in exhibits, now heavily marked with devil horns and derogatory comments in a variety of languages. Duch, recently sentenced to life in prison as of Feb. 2012, has the blood of about 20,000 prisoners on his hands, between those killed at S-21 and those sent to Choeung Ek for execution.  The faces of many of these prisoners are now memorialized in an exhibit throughout the upper floors.  Endless haunting expressions, including innocent tiny children, knowing adults, and sad elders, all marked with numbered tags. Few managed strained smiles for the photo. Their fate was obvious. Also exhibited: shackles, torture devices, bones, confessions, biographies, and a photograph of a map of Cambodia that had once been created out of human skulls.

When S-21 was discovered after the Khmer Rouge fled, there were 14 decaying, tortured corpses found within the prison, one of them female. These unidentifiable victims, the last of many, are now buried in the courtyard. Pictures of their bodies, as they were found, hang on the walls of the corresponding rooms.  The exact beds on which they laid are still there, but the large amount of blood seen in the pictures has since been cleaned up. All in all, there were only seven to emerge from S-21 alive, one of them is Cambodian artist Vann Nath. Vann Nath paints scenes of his experiences at the prison, which are now on display.

Tuol Sleng became a museum in 1979, when the Kampuchea People’s Tribunal began the prosecution of the Democratic Kampuchea’s leaders. Pol Pot passed away in 1998, but “Case 002″ is still ongoing, involving the prosecution of the remaining leaders: Khieu Samphan, Nuon Chea, Ieng Sary and his wife Ieng Thirith.  They stand trial for war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity.

After Tuol Sleng, I ate traditional Cambodian Lok Lak for dinner, which is marinated cubed beef, with a fried egg, rice and a lime black pepper sauce.  Then, we set out for a comedy show, apparently held monthly at club called Pontoon.  Pontoon is the ritziest place that I have been to yet, with fancy furniture, flashy lights and sound equipment, ice cold A/C. The patrons are entirely foreign visitors or expats, with an $8 tickets price for the show and $3.50 Angkor beers, which I tried for the first time. Keep in mind that the price of my beef dinner was $3. It was an Australian comedian who is on tour; he had just come from Singapore. He was pretty funny, but I am clearly still a bit jetlagged and I was excited to get home.

Today, I did some more wandering, but I started my day off with a real treat. I have heard really cool things about Seeing Hands Massage, is a successful employment opportunity for the blind. For $5/hr you can have one of the tables in the fan room, or for $7/hr in the A/C room. Not that I have had a ton of massages to judge, but Seeing Hands was definitely the best massage of my life, perhaps just because of the whole experience.  I was with Sofea, a tiny older lady, who cautiously felt her way into the room. As she helped me get situated, she chucked to the other masseurs, clearly commenting on how I did not fit on the massage table. My LonelyPlanet says it best: “the blind masseurs here have been in the business for many years and can sort out those niggling aches and pains, offering shiatsu or foot massages.” I went for the full shiatsu. I have been going a mile a minute since finals, and this was the perfect relaxation. Sofea wore a little beeping necklace that told her the time every few minutes.  She climbed all around me on the table, and if she happened to place a knee down on me, she quickly apologized: “Sorry, Sister.” Afterward, though she cannot speak much English, she eagerly asked me questions about who I am and where I am from. Amazing, really.

From Seeing Hands, I walked over to Wat Phnom, a landmark Buddhist temple in the city.  There was some sort of Justin Bieber dance-off at the base. Wat Phnom is on top of the only hill in Cambodia, only 27 m high. For foreigners there is a fee, I think it was like $1, but locals come to pray for good luck.  Also up there is a stupa containing the ashes of former King Ponhea Yat (died, 1467). It was cool, I got some neat pictures of the ornate Buddhas (this may or may not have been allowed), but my guidebook says that there are normally large troupes of macaques that get aggressive when people eat food. I was disappointed because I didn’t see one monkey; I should have brought a lot of fruit.  From here, the US Embassy was close, which just looked like an office building. Then, I walked down to Psar Thmei, or the Central Market, which as mostly cool because of the architecture.  It has a huge, yellow, domed main hall for ventilation, with a little clock tower in the center, where you can find any sort of fake jewel imaginable.  The 4 wings have vendors with similar products as the Russian Market, but it is way more expensive and touristy. Most pricey was Sorya Shopping Mall, which mimics Western shopping centers. Six floors of vendors with rare Air-Con, much more expensive merchandise (electronics and knock-off handbags), a food court, a movie theatre, and even a roller-blading park on an upper level. Coolest of all was an observation deck on the 8th floor surrounding a near-empty hot-pot restaurant. I couldn’t believe I was alone up there with the great view; I snapped some great shots of Phnom Penh from above and took a quick moto home.

Our tuk tuk driver and two of his friends (Agugu, Chok, and Alah) took Ali, Abby (Ali’s friend from school who just arrived), and I out for Khmer dinner and beers.  Well, we paid. We had steak and basil chicken and we also ended up downing two entire reservoirs of Angkor beer (only $6 each), and an additional small pitcher. It was really fun to hang out with them; I learned some new words, and some men from the Philippines at the neighboring table bought us a durian for $10. For those who don’t know, a durian is a huge and stinky fruit, with a brown spiked exterior, but the fruit itself is creamy and sweet. We had so much that we passed it around.  Afterwards, our tuk tuk driver had to have his friend drive home, and we ran out of gas and ended up pushing the thing for about a block, in the rain. It was the first time that it rained all day. Oh well, adventures!

This morning I just ran more errands, this time with Abby, hitting up several of the same places.  For $2 I picked up a Phrase Book, a Cambodian Dictionary, and a copy of The Little Prince (my favorite book) in Khmer. I did go to the Cambodian National Museum this afternoon. The building is quite the gem, and it is full to the brim with artifacts and ancient sculptures. But, most impressive were the ponds and gardens in the courtyard. Then, I treated myself again with a $5 manicure and pedicure. Though I could probably get a paint job for a lot less in one of the markets. Friends was a good cause; it is a vocational training school that also sells handmade merchandise and has a restaurant. The girls doing my nails were probably 14 years old, they were so sweet and they practiced Khmer phrases with me so that I could write them in my notebook. The one in charge seemed to be a little older and kept coming over and checking their work. I really enjoyed it and they asked me a ton of questions about America. I let them pick my color and ended up with electric blue.  Nails take forever to dry here, it is so humid.

Abby went into work for the first time this afternoon, and I met up with her and some of her coworkers tonight for trivia at a hotel bar.  Very fun! We were in third until the music round, then fell behind.  Now, I am quickly finishing my post, then it is off to bed for work tomorrow morning. I am very excited, especially because I should have a much clearer idea of what exactly my job involves.

Wish me luck!

Love, Becca