More Asia: Cambodia

The temple appears to ooze its ancient green goo.

Yep, still alive. Yep, writing about this 8 months later. Yep, feel free to navigate away from this page (I already got your click, it's mine forever now).

Ardent readers of mine will recall that I last posted about a wild few days on our group SE Asia trip in Vang Vieng and Vientiane in Laos. To round out the trip, we hopped a plane to visit our third country - Cambodia. A short flight brought us to Phnom Penh, Cambodia's capital and largest city.

Recent history in Cambodia makes for a truly unique atmosphere (in a mostly horrifying way). One can't spend an hour there without noting its youth. There's this innocence and naivete that exists that I haven't seen anywhere else before, and it's a direct result of 68% of the population being under the age of 30. These children, roaming the streets all hours of the day and night in search of spare change (sometimes in wholesome ways, ofttimes not), are second and third generation offspring of survivors of the Khmer Rouge. That they even exist is a minor miracle considering the bloody brutality of Pol Pot.

I mention naivete above, and it manifests itself in the way Phnom Penh is run:  trash thrown onto the curb (sometimes burned), markets flooded, rank, and crawling with rats, and the city's innumerable homeless and vagrant accosting every passerby. The city itself is disorienting, with every turn feeling like a narrower and darker passage leading to a gruesome end for the unaware.

And, of course, the city is mired in the horrors that took place in the 1970s. Just a quick bus ride from the bustling downtown core are remnants of and memorials to the most visceral reminders of the Khmer Rouge:  the killing fields at Choeung Ek and S-21 prison.

The view just outside of a holding cell in S-21, a former high school turned political prison.

A tower of actual human skulls recovered from nearby mass graves, sorted by method of the final blow.

It was a wholly sobering 24 hours, not what you would expect at the tail end of two weeks of partying. We ended the day exhausted, feeling a vague futility and disappointment in humanity. Several months later, talking about it with Rhiannon (who had visited the same sites on her Cambodia trip in April 2016), she summed my feelings about it perfectly:  "It's amazing how shit humans can be, and this was only 40 years ago."

*     *     *

Here I make a 180 degree reversal in mood, but believe me when I say that it follows the trajectory of our yo-yoing emotions at the time. From Phnom Penh, we spent the last two days of our trip in Siem Reap, a backpacker's abode famous for a bustling night market and proximity to timeworn temples - namely Angkor Wat.

Against the backdrop of Cambodia's youth and sorrowful not-that-long-ago past, ironically, are near millennium old reminders of its former glory. It is a country truly attempting to come to terms with its recent history while bridging to (and monetizing the heck out of) its ancient past.

Arrival at Angkor Wat before dawn is a must for a great sunrise shot.
Plus you can get a great shot of a great sunrise shot, or even a great shot of a great shot of a great sunrise shot, and so on...

Pro tip:  the backside of Angkor Wat is clean and (relatively) crowd-free. Here Michael contemplates the wonders and industry of man, maybe.

Everyone visiting the temples has to pay to get a photo ID for the day. Here is Dakota's 5 am face.

The Bayon temple - well-preserved happiness. 

No one ever talks about how much great seating is provided by 900 year old sandstone Khmer architecture, but it's a lot.

This temple has a real name, but everyone just calls it the Tomb Raider temple, or the one Angelina Jolie has been to.

Possibly the best part of the temples - riding in tuk-tuks from one temple to the next through fields, forests, lakes, and various ruins.

As I said at the beginning, this was over 8 months ago. So my memory is a little foggy from there, especially when trying to establish the order of everything. We definitely went on a sunset ATV ride through rice paddies, had a blow-out last night of dinner and heavy liquor-bucket drinking, ate rolled ice cream from a street vendor, and had a meal Timon and Pumba would be proud of:

Siem Reap's very own Bugs Cafe. Here we have a deep-fried tarantula, water beetles on a skewer, sauteed ants with rice, and roasted scorpions. Bon appetit!

After that last night out with our group trip, everyone started heading back into their own corner of the real world. Hugs were shared, and last second inside jokes were formed. For our smaller group of five guys, those last few hours were a time of bonding, convalescing by the hotel pool, eating knock-off Pringles and eventually getting pedicures for like $3. 

It was a wholly satisfying two weeks gallivanting through small areas of Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia. Some of us loved, some got violently ill, all of us drank snake whiskey and tore at least one pair of elephant pants, and ultimately none of us will forget the sights, sounds, drinks, and (mostly) smells of southeast Asia.

Cheers!

Next for me:  Vietnam with Rhiannon. Maybe I'll write about it next week, maybe I'll never write about it, I dunno.

Bonus:  a monkey at Angkor Wat!

Other pro tip:  don't bring any fruit to Angkor Wat, or you'll become a much photographed victim of theft.

Unemployment Part 6: Vang Vieng and Vientiane

It's been about 4 months since this trip to SE Asia, and as the specific memories fade or blur, it becomes more and more difficult to find the motivation to write about them. The benefit of undertaking something like this, of course, is getting the chance to drub up some forgotten inside joke, remember a moment of clarity or serenity, or conjure a feeling of warm nostalgia. So I soldier on, because even though these posts will become less lucid and exact with time, they will allow future me to reminisce about neglected minutiae.

From the shores of the remote Mekong, our tour hopped a bus that would carry us over a mountain road and (hopefully) deliver us safely to Vang Vieng. Excluding helicopter or small plane, this route is the only way to get from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng. So it felt special. It also felt special because it was treacherous. Our bus languidly wound its way up and down narrow cliff-side roads and through remote Hmong villages, honking to warn oncoming traffic at blind corners and scraping overhanging plants. We stopped midway for another delicious family-style Lao lunch at a rest stop I can only describe as jaw-dropping.

The rest stop sat at the edge of the world.  I didn't mind the view.

View interrupted.

Incidentally, that day I was dressed as the most 'SE Asia backpacker' version of myself.

Hand bag curls.

And it's a good thing too, because our destination, Vang Vieng, is the backpacking capital of Laos. Located on the Nam Song River, it also holds the label of former world's most ridiculous party scene. I mentioned it last post but it's probably worth saying again:  there are no rules in Laos. Home to cheap and eclectic drugs, dollar banh mi sandwiches, dollar buckets of liquor, dangerous rope swings and cave slides, tuk tuks stuck in the mud, and river-side rain-drenched bars, this is especially evident in Vang Vieng. It's the perfect mix of affordability (of various mind-altering substances), remoteness (4 hours jungle drive to the nearest city), and choice of dangerous activities (guided ostensibly by children as Rhiannon pointed out) to put any easily swayed 18 year old at risk. It's telling that our local guide, Doua, a family man, chose not to leave the vicinity of his hotel for two days.

The first night in Vang Vieng consisted of a blessing from an animist shaman who confusingly gave some people eggs (fertility blessing?) and potato chips, dinner at an Irish pub where 5 drinks were cheaper than a plate of fries, and clubbing at Sakura Bar. The most memorable part of the evening was dancing on an teetering and bouncy wooden platform at Sakura, and of course amassing the free tank tops that come with every drink order.

View from hotel room balcony. The mountains' shapes and colors seemed to change with the time of day, the cloud cover, and my level of hangover.

Jordan and Rhiannon meet for the first time.

In recent years the government of Laos has cracked down on the most dangerous aspects of Vang Vieng. Safety enforcement mainly comes in the form of shutting down river-side bars, dismantling rope swings that jettisoned inebriated tourists into the shallow and rocky water, and enforcing life-jackets while tubing or kayaking. Our tour group went on a 3 hour kayak trip down the river, with a stopover to tube through a cave. There was evidence of the danger that Vang Vieng presented:  kayaks tipping some of our tour group into rapids (including the guides who just didn't seem to care), slipping and sliding through a dark cave, and crossing rotting log bridges in the Lao jungle.

Before our cave expedition, Michael, Jordan, and I played some sepak takraw with locals - a no hands volleyball-style game using a small wicker ball.

Into the cave I go, where my headlamp immediately fell to one side and turned off.

That afternoon some of our tour group ventured out of town to Vang Vieng's most famous attractions, the river bars. While most of these are now closed, 4 or 5 of them alternate days they can be open. And the atmosphere is pure intoxicated ecstasy - practically free drinks consumed on rickety wooden platforms with music blasting. We arrived just before one of the heaviest downpours I've ever been in, and yet this only added to the party atmosphere for the 20 or so of us who stuck it out. Afterward, on our twilight drive back into town, our tuk tuks got stuck in the bog mud pits that had formed in the previous three hours. This was no problem for our group, with the Aussie boys jumping out and slogging us through the muck.

Pregame for river bars - beer pong at Kangaroo Sunset Bar, where everyone gets a free tank top.

Michael and I confusingly drink with straws through our shirts. Drew's unabashed joy.

Dakota is fitting in. I've always said he would be a good plank.

It was a pretty big day, and to top it off that night was Halloween. And while I only vaguely participated in the celebrations, everyone else had a huge night. Needless to say I was jealous of the partying but thankful to not be hungover the next day when we had a 4 hour bus trip to Vientiane.

With Vang Vieng behind us, there was a perceptible letting out of the air in our group - the partying climax was over, and we had to sober up in order to do cultural things in the Laotian capital.

I don't have strong memories of Vientiane, because we spent barely spent 24 hours there. We saw (another) massive reclining Buddha, climbed Patuxai (the Lao Arc de Triomph), and learned about the secret war that (you guessed it!) America waged on the Lao countryside. This last bit of history was presented to us at the COPE center, with the "aim to increase awareness about disability in Laos..." and to "present the unexploded ordnance (UXO) problem in Laos and how it links in with disability."  Learning that someone had thought up and used cluster bombs on other human beings was particularly horrifying. It was a not so subtle reminder that ongoing woeful poverty in Laos is a direct result of a decades-long convalescence from a war it didn't want.

#americanguilt #dichotomiesinasia

Mocking those of us who just want to lie down and sleep in peace.

Learning Buddha's biography. Thanks Drew.

Vientiane night markets on the Mekong.

Sorry for ending on a dour note, but the fun didn't stop there. Up next - Phnom Penh and a brutal history lesson on the Khmer Rouge.

Cheers!

Bonus - in this edition of 'animals of Asia,' some other kinds of animals.

Terrifying Halloween tree.

Unemployment Part 5: The Mekong

Remote Buddhist temple on the Mekong in Laos.
Religion permeates every nook and cranny on Earth.

In SE Asia, Thailand is perhaps the most well-known travel destination for Westerners - it's kept up good relations with Britain (and thereby all of Europe and America and Australasia) despite colonization, coups, world and civil wars, and the creep of communism at its borders. So Thai islands and partying have been a known entity for decades. Laos, on the other hand, is unknown for several reasons:  mountainous landlocked terrain, extreme poverty, relatively small population (~7 million) and rocky communist history (and equally rocky history of relations with USA). Most Westerners 10 to 15 years ago probably would have never considered going there. Now the travel industry in Laos makes up around 15% of its GDP, and is expected to steadily increase for the next decade. It's a pretty incredible transformation, but not wholly unexpected since travel companies like Contiki have started providing safe and convenient travel options.

The main conduit for Lao tourism is the Mekong River, and while it also passes through Myanmar, Cambodia, and Vietnam, the Lao Mekong is the most scenic and least crowded. After crossing the border by bus on a very hot and humid afternoon, our tour group set off on a two day river boat trip. To say this floating excursion through hours and hours of untamed countryside was cruisy is a bit of an understatement. Our longboat puttered at a leisurely pace, weaving around rocks and eddies. The sun would come and go around each bend, as would the water buffalo, bathing native children, and an occasional small dug-out canoe precariously loaded with fishermen. On board the atmosphere adopted the serenity of the passing water, with space to lounge or read or nap and tables to play cards. In the back a family-style lunch of traditional Lao food was served, and a massive cooler was always brimming with the official state alcoholic drink, Beerlao.

Beerlao advertisement - not that a state-owned monopoly needs marketing.

Upon closer inspection, the boat seemed to just be several sticks lashed haphazardly together.

That night we stopped at a halfway point to our destination - Pakbeng. I will always remember it as the most remote location I've ever used an ATM. And as the place that Drew became a millionaire (in Lao currency). Our accommodation for the night, a home-stay, was really just a hotel with small rooms and bathrooms where the toilet and shower head shared the same 6 sqft space.

A sleepy sunset in the middle of nowhere.

Back on the boat early the next morning, the river was covered in a cool brisk fog. It felt a little intrusive to be chugging along so loudly while the shoreline maintained its silent and shrouded vigilance. The morning wore on and the sky cleared. More cards were played, some push-ups were pushed-up, and soon we were stopping at Pak Ou Caves, only a few hours from our final destination. Carved into the cliff side, they are home to hundreds of miniature Buddha statues. And while the climb to the top proved difficult on our bodies now used to exclusively lounging and drinking on a floating vessel, the views were worth it.

I suppose this would be a good photo for a Lao travel brochure.

Our boat cruise came to an end at Luang Prabang. Designated as a World Heritage site, the city has an amazing mix of historical significance, natural beauty (tucked into mountains and situated right on the Mekong), and a backpacker relaxed vibe. For the first time on our group trip, we had two days and nights to explore. Night one was packed with activities:  a bike trip visiting ancient temples and a sustainable silk shop, dinner and beach volleyball at a yoga studio and burger serving restaurant owned by a Canadian (eh?), and a night out bowling at one of three bowling alleys in all of Laos (yes you read that correctly).

Low ridin'. Incidentally Michael clumsily knocked over every single bike in domino fashion, and I will never let him forget that.

A relaxed dinner at Utopia. This is moments before I scraped off the top of my right foot on the concrete "beach" volleyball court.

At bowling, it cost roughly 7 USD for a bucket of ice, a bottle of (Lao) vodka, and mixers.
Drew spent the entire night doing trick shots like this, and not a single employee cared.

The next day was equally busy, with a few of us visiting the house and butterfly garden our local tour guide Doua built himself. Oh sweet sweet Doua with his adorable children and hundreds of hand-raised butterflies. The simple beauty of his property almost cured me of my bowling-induced hangover. Later on we ventured up a bumpy and perilous road to Kuang Si waterfalls, about 45 minutes outside of Luang Prabang. The falls and surrounding hills are also home to a bear sanctuary...it's difficult to remember what part I liked more.

Wandering through a mountain village, eating street meat.

The waterfall distracts from the 5 legitimately and uniquely awkward faces in this photo.

That's a little better.

We had a simple evening of strolling through the town's night market, eating more street meat, and buying Lao handicrafts. The next morning, our group partook in a solemn alms giving to the local Buddhist monks (and monks in training). It was surreal. Arriving before sunrise, we set up camp on the sidewalk in our temple wear. Our alms consisted of a wicker basket filled with sticky rice. After a half hour of waiting, monks of all ages poured from the temple in single file, wearing their recognizable (and I would argue very fashionable) bright orange. As each came by our long line, they would open their metal pots to silently accept a small handful of rice. It went by in a flash, and though it felt noteworthy and important, it is also a confusing and humbling ordeal. 

Is it a smile or an old-man knees grimace?

Some monks got massive wads of rice, others only a few grains.

Soon we were back on a bus, heading away from the mighty Mekong and through the mountains to Vang Vieng. Much more to say about that, but not until next time.

Cheers!

Bonus:  Animals of the Mekong River!

Across the river from Pakbeng is an elephant sanctuary. Early in the morning they are led to the water for a quick bath.

Spider the size of my hand hidden behind a buddha at Pak Ou Caves!

One of Doua's many magnificent butterflies.

In Luang Prabang, a sidewalk vendor sells snake whiskey for 1 USD / shot. It's not the best.

The bears at Kuang Si falls have a lot of toys at their disposal.

Unemployment Part 4 - Northern Thailand

Our trip (the plural here being Dakota, Michael, Drew, Jordan, and I) was part of a bigger travel group through Contiki. For those of you who have heard of Contiki, you'll have some preconceived ideas about it - namely it consisting of 18-20 year-olds who drink themselves into a stupor on random beaches. This isn't entirely inaccurate, though we knowingly and deliberately chose a trip that was more cultural and less adventurous.

In Thailand 'more cultural' means that instead of heading south from Bangkok into the party island-hopping scene, we took an overnight train north to Chiang Mai. Overnight trains are a pretty foreign concept to people outside of Europe and Asia. My perception beforehand was that they were archaic - an old-fashioned way to slowly get from one point to another while trying to avoid getting Agatha Christie-style murdered. And while still slow, even in Thailand they are quite comfortable, modern. and also pretty cool. Especially if the trip is with a group of good friends and new friends (effectively taking over an entire car), and especially if the Contiki trip manager, Shan, gives you her backup Halloween costume a week in advance.

Not pictured - Jordan parading the suit up and down the train car at 10 pm.

Each seat on a Thai overnight train flips down into an agreeable bed. Though I should point out that sleeping conditions aren't that great, especially on the top bunk (as Rhiannon has pointed out in her travel blog). We had a good 15 hours of food, cards (in one of the strangest revelations of the trip Emma from Sydney knew how to play Euchre!), and monotone train rumble to get to know our fellow world travelers.

In Chiang Mai the next morning, the majority of our group went on a 4-5 hour trip to an elephant sanctuary. The pictures from that looked really fun - bathing with elephants, feeding elephants, sliding down muddy hills with elephants - but Michael and I decided to stay behind and enjoy our hotel pool, a massage, and Chiang Mai's curiously fun 3D Art Museum with Emma and Shan.

Philadelphia meets Thailand.

Most scenes have a 'Take photo from here' spot that emphasizes the perspective.

"But I don't want to be shown a whole new world."

Northern Thai food holds a strange, cult-like fascination among foodies. With its eclectic mix of spices, fresh veggies, pork (mainly deep-fried but also minced), and mango sticky rice that makes my mouth water as I type this, it really does stand out. Chiang Mai, being the largest city in northern Thailand, is the epicenter for this culinary genre. That evening we took part in a cooking class hosted by Perm and his immodestly named "The best thai cookery school," which begins in the Chiang Mai market before mini-busing to his facility nestled among idyllic rice paddies.

Learning about ginger or something.

This one is really hot, and this one...is also really hot.

Not a bad view to mince garlic to.

In probably the most miraculous part of this experience, every single person in our group lit a fireball and no one got injured. 

Does food taste better or worse after a near death experience?

That evening we went back to the market, which sounds tame and wholesome until you realize that it was to watch a ladyboy cabaret show. This might seem ludicrous to some of my more conservative readers, but it's actually an extremely entertaining show filled with lights, dancing, strutting, comedy, overtly feminine dress and makeup covering covertly masculine frames, and just a little bit too much crowd interaction...

But first Michael and I had to get our feet nibbled at the night market - strangely satisfying.

Dakota really embracing his Thai Rihanna.

A bunch of guys from our group, including Michael and I, were dragged backstage, forced to put on wigs and dresses, and then paraded around on stage for several minutes. I hated it in the moment, but remember it now with only moderate disgust.

With the shame of the night before fresh in our minds, we set off from Chiang Mai, leaving much to be hopefully explored on future visits. Our last stop in Thailand before crossing into Laos was Chiang Rai, the oldest city in Thailand. I don't remember a whole lot about Chiang Rai, other than a few interesting stops in and around the city. First, Cabbages and Condoms. This pit stop restaurant and shop and small peacock zoo (?) was set up to promote family planning and HIV/AIDS prevention with the idea that "condoms should be as ubiquitous as cabbages." Anyway we stopped and took a group picture.

Nothing screams sexual safety like cartoon condoms. 

Second was Wat Rong Khun, more commonly called the White Temple. It's strange, out in the middle of nowhere. It gushes with eye-catching sculptures and shapes, not to mention a shininess that made me feel like I needed blinders just to walk through it. 

Manicured. Serene.

Oh, this is not what I was expecting.

Seems a little ornate for a Buddhist temple.

Are those hands?! 

And finally, Chiang Rai's lovely little night market, where the spiciest hot pots were served over burning coals. As if we needed more heat added to our oppressively muggy environment.

Very thankful for approximate English translations at most night markets in Asia.

Next up:  we go very remote on a riverboat trip down the Mekong in Laos.

Cheers!

Bonus:  more Asia animals!

In most versions of my memories of this trip, I don't regret missing the elephants.
But looking at pics like this summons creeping remorse.

This bird bit my finger ten seconds after this photo. I don't think I contracted anything.

Our northern Thailand coach bus had a creepy knockoff Finding Nemo theme. We lovingly called it "Searching for Gleemo."