Hat Yao and Sinchai Chowmai

Well, after a week away from the computer, I have a chance to catch up.

We took the overnight train from Bangkok at 6:30 pm, only able to get a 2nd class ticket of an upper birth with fan... which will mean a probable night of heat. That's the breaks. The photo is of Bob and I, already weary from heat, trying to induce sleep by way of a large Chang beer. Happily, I slept quite well as the train cooled off during the night. I have a couple of stories from the roughly 15 hours on the train.

A young Norwegian family of parents and 3 kids, one a 8 mos old traveling and roughing it... talk about chutzpah! Then again, Norwegians are given 6 mos of paid maternity leave (either parent)!

We also met Walter, an ex-pat from San Diego, Ca. A Viet Nam vet, retired merchant marine, age 67 now living in Ko Samui, Thailand. Another middle to late aged Anglo male with a younger Thai girlfriend, a common combo we see all over Thailand. Is this a last hurrah with youth, a mutually workable "arrangement" ...or is this LOVE? Often, I have noticed, that there is minimal verbal communication... lot's of hand signals. Ed, you'll have to resist the urge to add humor here. She is the guide, he is the provider? ...and they both get a vacation out of the deal? I really don't pretend to know or understand. I do notice that after a dozen or more of these couplings are observed, there are some common threads. The male rarely gives eye contact to other male westerners when with "their" Thai females. One can guess this comes from some sense of being judged... but there are likely many other possibilities. One does see a gov't campaign posted in signs with regularity stating "sex with children is a crime!". In a conversation along these lines with Bob, he pointed out that often these particular Thai women were small and very slight of build... that perhaps there is some form of pedophilia being acted out in these couplings... obviously not in all cases. It is an interesting topic and probably runs the whole range of human emotional possibilities ...like any relationship. To be sure, one must keep in check the tendency to be judgemental on such a foreign topic.

Back to Walter more specifically. "I voted for Edwards" he says, "he's the real deal, after those corporate jerks...". He ranted on about how America was going all to hell and how he no longer has any direct attachments to it (though he still proudly votes in the elections) ...he was an anomaly in many ways. He expressed somewhat "liberal" views in some ways yet felt the mixing of the races was the real problem in America. "In the end, it just doesn't work... just look at Israel, a real racist (homogeneous?) country, and look at how well it works... they got it right!" he adds. And Walter is one of the more "functional" Viet Nam vets living abroad... in a mixed race relationship, I might add! "It all won't matter anyway" he says, "I think we'll all go down in a nuclear disaster within ten years anyway" he predicts while barely able to order a sweet from a passing vendor in the train... and this is after 15 years living in the area. The topics of ex-pats is another fascinating topic to me and one which would be a kick to explore... probably as many different "types" as the stories one would hear. Enough.

By 7 a.m., we had the entire train car to ourselves as everyone else had exited at previous destinations. For 3 hours we could observe the countryside at our leisure, farms, rubber plantations (Thailand is the world leader in rubber export), jungles and beautiful stone karsts rising majestically from the flat lands... only interrupted by the occasional train station.

By 10:30 am we arrive in Trang, find some breakfast and find our way by van to our destination of the day, Hat Yao on the coastline of Southwest Thailand, a small fishing village and our jumping off point to the islands beyond. This picture above is our room (nicer than it looks) just a few meters from the high tide water. Our beach is shaded by Casuarina Pines, a nice frame for the sea view. This is Sinchai "Resort" (a stretch in a name) but we are very satisfied with our spacious place and the quiet location.

For the next two days, we veg, swim out to a lovely deserted beach around the corner, read and wander into the small village nearby. This is a village that was quite damaged by the Tsunami. This is a Muslim fishing port with a small mosque. People are very friendly and though the damaged small houses (often "huts" by most standards) and ruined fishing boats are evidence of a tough time, it is apparent the Thai government has been trying to do its best. Large signs pay tribute to those lost, sign posts showing the high water mark and a system of signs showing the distance and evacuation paths all should follow in the event of an earthquake. There is a new cement pier and of course a warning system tower with microphones. Mr. Sinchai explains in broken English "water come in fast, but Sinchai get phone call and take all people out before... nobody die here". He has lived here all his life and never before had such an experience.
This is a view of the "chandelier" hanging from the huge stone karst on our secluded beach next door to Sinchai's Resort.

And of course I will close out with the obligatory sunset shot... a hopeful beginning to what we expect to be a week of island hopping and beach bumming. Though this is the mainland, it is very easy to imagine it as an island and we are hesitant to leave such a nice find. Never the less, by Monday morning March 16th (I think), we are ready to get a transfer of some kind to some of the many real islands off this coast.

We go back and forth on logistics and destinations before Tri (pron: tree) suggests we go to Ko Kradan rather than our intended Ko Mook... "more pretty and good snorkeling" he says. We bite. He facilitates the arrangements and by 10 am we are wading into the tide to board a longtail boat for parts unknown. This is how one of our best ever islands started (Gili Meno with Greg) back in '94 or so. I hope you are all enjoying your weather as much as we are here. All the best, Mark

Ko Kret Pottery Island

Today we managed to get to the island of Ko Kret in the middle of the Chao Priya River. This is a island of Mon (Mung?) people who have used the earth of the island, at least initially, to make large water storage pots. Today, the island is organized into three pottery villages with obviously a successful orientation towards exporting with weekend tourists a side business. We were here in the middle of the week, middle of the hot as hell and humid day, so we had it pretty much to ourselves. The kiln above right, was forty feet long and a slight climb to the chambers. Lots of firewood stacked out back.
Above left, a photo of the front of one of the many kilns on this island. These potteries do a lot of low fire pierced ware with lots of imprint stamps for surface decoration. At one point we bought home made coconut ice cream served up in a leaf folded into a cup and placed inside one of the low fire pots... all for 66 cents... and you keep the pot! We'll see if I can get it home in one piece.

These next two shots were taken by leaning inside the dark kiln, aiming in each direction both up and down the dark kiln chamber and seeing what the dark insides would reveal. I had no idea that there were pots inside awaiting unloading.
Another shot of 'lotsapots' awaiting firing. There were also massive brand new gas fired car kilns which had to cost a fortune... so I'm guessing the economy on this island is doing quite well... certainly a lot of shops selling wares and trinkets.

Thursday is our day to move out, stash our bags and do one of the yet undone museums here in Bangkok while we await our 6 pm departure on the overnight train down the Thai peninsula to Tran (the train to Tran) arriving at 10 am and then immediately either going out to an island or finding a nice beachside place on the mainland. Students are newly out of school for summer vacation so the trains were booked... hence we only could get upper births with fans (instead of the usual a.c.) so this could be a very hot overnight trip... hope not. Usually the Thai trains are very comfortable and nice.

These next couple of shots show the tradition going forward and some of the exquisite sculptural pieces being done on the island.





F, a Next, a close up of some of the piecing tradition here. These are largish casserole size pots. Finally, a tranquil pond sitting right behind one of the new kilns... if you turn around from loading... this is your view of the world around you. I also have some fine shots of the wheels and the belt driven drives for speed variation. I look forward to arranging these into a slide show for people to view upon my return. Our trip home was quite an adventure. We took the same #32 bus after the water taxi up the Chao Priya river only to find that sinking feeling that nothing on the return trip is familiar... yes, an hour of rush hour fumes later, we found we had taken the bus all the way back to our neighborhood. In retro... could have been a lot worse. I may be out of internet touch for a couple of days... so don't be alarmed. Until then... Mark

Catching up! March 12, 2008

Sunset from the front porch of our first night thatched hut on Bamboo Island. Not bad.

These are photos of the way the jungle and the ruins at Ta Phrom compete. Bob and Vivian in front give a sense of scale... the tree goes up another 100 or more feet. The sounds of the cicadas in unison and the moisture in the air... all lend to the majesty and mystique of this place. The movie Tomb Raiders was filmed here.

Another photo from the same area of yours truly. Red stands out well doesn't it? Ha!

Yesterday, Tuesday, was a business day here in Bangkok getting our train tix for Thursday nights overnight train down to Trangdown the southern Thai peninsula. We also met with Willie again at an upscale restaurant in our area near Rambutri called Hemlock... great name for a place to eat, no? Good food, some claiming to be "ancient" dishes, jazz playing in the background (first time I've experience that in Thailand), good conversation and a chance to meet Willie's very nice friend Pim(?).

This is a photo of a group of musicians seated outside of Ta Phrom who are all landmine survivors... note the prosthesis laying off to the side... nice touch! The sound was beautiful. I have a CD of music from these guys from my trip here four years ago. What spirit.

This next picture is of Bob on the front porch of our second thatched hut on Bamboo Island.

Our second place in which we stayed for two additional nights was also just 30 feet (if that) from the water's edge. Tranquil and some snorkeling possible on this side though the water was murky probably due to the rainstorms at night.
Today we will head toward the pottery island 20 minutes by water taxi from our base in Bangkok. This is a culture of Mon people who settled on this island in the middle of the Chao Priya river here in Bangkok and started making pottery. I was there in '04 and want to show it to B & V as well as to see how they are doing now.
At my end, it does appear these photos are posting so I think I will quit while I'm ahead. I hope you are all well. -Mark

He put the "ass" in hassle!

I'll try to load the pix, but no guarantees.

Our drive back from the islands started out fine... as long as Kenny was with us. From the ferry onward... well, at least it makes a good story of sorts.

The big long modern but worn "ferry" is really just a high speed passenger service... with a lot of bags and boxes of merchandise loaded wherever they can make it fit. Even people elect to ride on the roof rather than to be entombed within the belly of this vessel. No windows to open, a blaring television of the worst Kung-Fu movies ever, a couple of air conditioners to service about 60 people. I did have a row to myself and was able to snooze a bit. Good time to catch up on the many New Yorkers we have with us.

After four hours on the water, we pull in to Hat Lek near the Cambodian/Thai border on the west side of Cambodia. We negotiate a cab with a unhappy driver to take us the 20 minutes to the border crossing. Luckily we arrived before the many others who took bimo style ride in the back trucks. The crossing was a game. First they make you wait in the sun to wear you down and as Bob theorizes, to give the touts a chance to take bribes from those at the back of the line to get their passports processed first. Then when they do begin to take us... it is painfully slow... as if it is the first time the person behind the computer has ever done this. Finally, after about twenty minutes (we were at the front of the line too) we get through. Expecting all to get better, we hike the 100 or so meters across "no mans land" to the Thai border crossing where it is pretty straight forward and efficient. We are stamped and finished in short.

So now it is time to find transpo to take us north up to Trat, a Thai city that we will spend the night in hopes of finding a ferry out to some more islands we have heard of in this area. This is where we find the "ass" in hassle. The guy is overweight, about 30, white ball cap, sports team shirt, American sneakers and dressed like a "gangsta rappa". He was the controller of all the modes of transpo parked here at this remote outpost of fruit stands and jewelry vendors. You had to go through "boss man" to get anything and he was having a great time being an asshole and overcharging but huge amounts. First he would make everyone wait... and wait... and wait.
Then he would begin to take those who were going all the way north back to Bangkok, and who would pay the top price... had to have ten people squeezed into one van. Finally after about two hours of this, we load onto the back of a pickup truck with eleven others and our baggage for the one hour drive at high speed to the coastal town of Trat. The Germans around us are having a far more angst ridden time of it than we are. It is their game, we have no leverage... and that is just how it sometimes goes. We did meet some nice fellow sufferers from Sweden, Norway and America... with stories far worse than this.

We arrive in Trat exhausted but find accommodations easily and quickly. We decide that we need to eat and find a nice night market. Home, showers (our own) and a good night of sleep before arising early for another 6 hour bus north to Bangkok. We decide the islands are not worth it from what we are hearing, the timetables being against us and the weather being so grey.

We arrive in Bangkok Monday night, noodle around for an hour and find a tight but nice forth floor place with a.c. and breakfast and bath. More to come.

Kenny Lim...This is your life

Kenny Lim yesterday morning having breakfast with us before we say goodbye.



Kenny Lim is a 45 year old American... NOW. He looks to be about 34, tops.
Kenny was born in Cambodia and as close as we can work out the math, it must have been around 1977 or 78 towards the end of Pol Pok's genocidal regime, that Kenny's Cambodian parents were murdered... like so many others. At age 12, Kenny saved his own life by hiding out and as soon as was possible, he and a handful of other now orphaned children swam across a river from Cambodia to Thailand to seek escape and freedom. They were picked up and told they had to return. They explained that doing so would be a certain death for them. Somehow an agency of some kind took them in and either through the U.N. or such, word got out that there were these young children needing homes. Kenny was the oldest of them... and the smallest, he says. An American from Ventura county, an owner of an R.V. sales business, had been traveling through Asia looking to adopt and heard of this bunch of kids. He found his way to the agency and pointed at Kenny and that meltdown smile, took him to Bangkok for his shots and brought him home to Ventura... immediately putting him in front of a television to watch American cartoons... and to learn English.

Kenny says his adopted father was the best man in the whole world... they were more like buddies than father and son. He taught me to be a good student, to keep my native language and the R.V. business. In 1999, following a brief cruise down to Baja, Kenny's adopted father only lived three more weeks after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Kenny still tears up retelling this story... he was my best friend and roll model. "He would never refuse anything to anybody."

I ran his R.V. business for the next 20 years along with two Mongolian Bar B Q establishments that I created. I still own them but have put friends in charge of them now while I am in Asia this past year and one half. He has never returned to Asia until now. His second wife is Thai and lives in Thailand until she can meet the 7 year requirement to get her visa to come to the U.S. They met in the U.S. There is more.

Kenny came to Cambodia to do some good... to find need and help people out. On Bamboo Island he built a set of primitive bungalows with a restaurant to help some local islanders get a business going. When he finished, they took it away from him without any reimbursement of his investment as was the plan. He is now stuck here and works for Dariash at BimBamBoo to get enough money together (while waiting to see if he can gain some economic resolution of his loss), and a worker he is. He is constantly running around doing it all... from putting people in units, to arranging transportation, boats, helping locals and cooking. Dariahsh says "he works five times harder than I do and I don't pay him anything but a place to stay and food". Of course I will help him as much as possible but business here is very meager as well." We decided we would help Kenny out and he has been very grateful. Hopefully we will see him sometime in California.

Kenny has three kids. The oldest son is on a full scholarship in his second year at Harvard. Denies any connection with his Cambodian blood, says Kenny. He is a stellar student. Middle daughter is studying various Asian languages in college in Thailand on a field study program from her university in the states. Another success.

Kenny says all his business earnings, after they are divided with his partners, go into a trust that his children live off. As we are eating breakfast at the ferry dock in Sihanoukville, our last time together with this amazing man who seems to give all his money to others, we hear of yet another amazing story around this ever so positive and genuine human being. "My youngest son is the most amazing of all my kids" he says. "He was born with many organs not fully formed or working properly... especially his esophagus, not connected to his stomach." He survived a difficult first year, many surgeries and a developmentally delayed childhood with many setbacks. "Throughout this all... he is the most positive person alive. He refuses to be set back. I took him to hospitals in Thailand to get more medical help because it is so much cheaper there. I speak 8 languages because I love to study them and they come to me easily. Even in Ventura, I always sought out Chinese people to speak with" Kenny says. "In Thailand, because I cannot stay always with my son, I find a nanny for him while I go home to run my businesses. She falls in love with my son and he with her. After years of this, she wants to adopt my son and I will help make this happen because she cannot have children... but I will always provide the money for them."

The next time I think I have too much on my plate... I will try to think of Kenny... and how lucky we all felt to have met him. Hopefully we will see him down the road.




On a different note, this was our thatched hut the first night on the west side of BamBooIsland.
I'm going to try to upload some more pix in the next blog as this place seems to be fairly fast.

Bamboo Island and Tuk-Tuk Karma

Took the bus from Siem Reap back to Phnom Penh (a tactical mistake) and then on to Sihanoukville (named after King Sihanouk) ...a very long day of five and six hour bus rides back to back. Got in after dark and found a place by way of a nice Tuk-Tuk driver who took us to a passable place next to a nice enough place to have dinner a block back from the water's edge. We intend to go out to Bamboo Island tomorrow so we only need a minimal place for tonight.

By morning, we find yet another Tuk-Tuk driver to take us to the boat launch so we can purchase the ticket for the hour long trip out to the island ...as well as the room reservation while out there. The driver quotes us $4 which we note is very high comparatively speaking. But we don't know how far away this boat launch is. Tuk-tuk drivers here, the book warns us, are notorius for overcharging and ripping off tourists... and this is no exception. He wonders about trying to take a fabricated long route that finally winds up only about 200 yards from where we started out. We are pissed off and after securing our necessary arrangements for a departure in about 90 minutes, we let him know what an outrage he has produced. Vivian is especially mad at him and lets him have it... not something typical of Vivian at all. It does no good and our anger only seems to bring him pride in front of his buddies witnessing his business accumen.

The one hour boat trip passes other islands as we head to the westerly side of Ko Russie (Bamboo Island) as it is known. We land on the quiet side to a place called Ba Roo made up of about ten thatched huts no more than 30 feet from the water's edge. It is serene and other than the extraordinary high frequency and loud slaps of the waves against the almost orange sand (it squeaks when you walk on it), this is exactly the kind of place we had hoped for. Western facing beach for the highly touted sunsets. We settle in, go for a swim (no snorkeling worthy waters found), take an exploratory walk to the eastern side of the island, have dinner at the large round open air restaurant that is part of the thatched hut-ness (the only choice on this side) and after a bit of conversation with other visitors and each other, it is dark and time to retire... though I manage to have a cigar before bed.

Next morning, after a shower at the remote bathroom, we decided to check out here and move to the other side of the island where there are about four places to choose from and TWO restaurants. We also find this side to have more transportation options for our return trip and a quieter surfline... AND some snorkeling advantages.

We have a nice thatched hut with a largish veranda and two chairs with a table... uptown! We also have an attached bathroom with a Squat-o-matic. For the next two days we make the BIG decisions. Do I snorkel now or later, read here on the porch or in the hammock slung between two palms not five feet from the water's edge? No real bug or heat problems... thank you very much. We meet Dariash, a Brit of Persian decent who wons the 16 huts for the 4-5 month season. We also meet his side kick friend ...Kenny, a native born Cambodian adopted by an American from Ventura, California at age 12. More on Kenny in a seperate blog other than to say that Kenny made some rather nice B-B-Q ribs tonight for dinner.

There are other choices of activities should you, dear reader, wonder. One can, as I did, watch the "day trippers" who come onto the island for lunch on various boats that do a three island tour from the mainland. A bit like watching a people zoo as they lay out on the sand spit for the two hours they are given. Another activity is watching the enormous thunder heads come and go and speculating on whether or not they will produce the fabled downpour ...or not. We had two nights of good downpours with wonderful cracking thunder and lightening and horrendous wind blown rain... truely the tropics. On another earlier night at BimBamBoo (the name of our place), the blowing rain came up so suddenly that the six of us about to have dinner had to rush and crouch down behind the bar to keep from being soaked until we could make a run for the safety of our thatched huts a half hour later. It is at moments like these where one indulges in yet another activity option... of meeting and having conversations with the other visitors. Behind the protection of this bar, I met a British lawyer practicing in Abu Dhabi (oil and gas) ..."can't stand Dubai, too modern without a culture or soul..." she says. We also met and enjoyed Kristin, a gal from Spokane who was traveling w/a mate from Sri Lanka (his first time out of his country) and a pretty terrific dog. Kristin, two months preggers, teaches elementary Art in International schools abroad. She has taught in Ecuador, Hanoi and now in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Loves it! Great pay, respectful kids, housing and maid provided... "they really love to hire couple because they save on housing costs...". I have the addresses for anyone reading this who is interested. You can also do a web search for Council of International Schools or go to www.cis.org or try Search Associates.

Our last night on Bamboo Island, the rain blown one mentioned above, and we must rise at 5 am to get to the mainland in time for our bus or boat back north. Our good luck made the rain end 15 minutes before Kenny loads us onto his boat for the hour long ride to the mainland. Because our landing will need to be crude (the power skiff we are towing seems to have a motor problem) we will have to go to a more remote beach to bring the larger boat closer to the water's edge where we hop out and carry out packs through the breaking surf onto a beach where Kenny has arranged to have a Tuk-Tuk driver meet us... in spite of the distance we are from the populace. The wonders of Cell phones and a person like Kenny who speaks 8 languages! This is to be a challenging day for us having to trudge through many different modes of transportation and bureaucracies. "The Tuk-tuk driver is a guy I bring much business to and he is always ready to meet me no matter what time of day or night... a good guy who will never overcharge as the others do" assures Kenny. Kenny himself is a book waiting to be written. Besides his language skills, he has a personality and smile that could melt the most formidable of advasaries... and he makes everything very quick and easy. Upon bringing our gear onto the mainland, sure enough, there is the Tuk-tuk driver waiting for us... the very same one that ripped us off three nights earlier. Kenny says... "this morning, it won't cost you a dime, this is a favor he owes me". This is karmic justice at its finest and as we come eye to eye with the driver, he looks away as he grabs our bags to load up, wanting to please not us... but Kenny. We tell Kenny the story and Kenny says something in Khymer to the driver who tells Kenny he isn't sure if he knows us or not as he has so many fares from day to day. We are sure it is the same guy and crack up over our good fortune to enjoy our just rewards. To make matters even better, we find the bus tickets which Kenny confirmed for us a day ahead, was overbooked and only if we agree to sit on plastic chairs in the isles, can we have seats. So Kenny commands the driver to go with Kenny to the boat dock to see if we can be booked on the high speed four hour ferry ride to the same endpoint as the bus. The connection is successful and the driver is fit to be tied ...we of course feel we have finally been given our four dollars per person's worth. It isn't the price... but the rude way the driver conducted himeself that made it so rewarding. Kenny has magic in most things he does and I will tell you more about his amazing life story in yet another blog entry.

Kenny insists on staying with us and facilitating our boat ticket purchases and then takes us to a wonderful mom and pop dock-side place to have breakfast. We have a delightful meal together in a place that I am certain rarely if ever sees westerners. No English spoken here and finally we have a rather emotional farewell with Kenny as we vow to get together in California when he returns. He is a rare and very special guy. More to come... Mark

No Anger in Angkor... and more

O.K. a little carried away with the sepia tone effect in my camera... but whatever magic you think this photo depicts... it pales in comparison to the real thing.


Hello again:

Still one day behind on my reporting. Yesterday, Monday... we started the day off with our driver Mr. Visoth whom we have employed for three days. Today we will go extra far to a place Bob and Vivian have been to before called Kbal Spear, a place up a mountain famous for the carvings in the river and the stone lingems and yonies (sp?) everywhere. But first we stop at Pre Rup on our way out to the site. Pre Rup is a beautiful and smaller temple with far fewer tourists and we have it all to ourselves this morning at 7:30 am. It is bathed in soft eastern morning light and the carvings are nicely accented on the east facing side.

45 minutes later, we arrive at Kbal Spear and begin our climb up the graceful path leading up the mountain. Cambodia is mostly a flat country with few mountains... so when they have a few, it is a big deal. This partly explains why the temple sites are all about efforts to build tall mounds simulating mountains.

About half way up the hill and 20 minutes from our start, we encounter large boulders with spirit sticks under them propping them up... of course in ritual only. The many assorted trees we are walking through are all labeled and identified by their Latin names... many I recognize as gum trees and ficus. We arrive at the top and find low water in the small waterfall area but in many ways this is good because we can see the thousand or so "lingums" carved from stone in the river basin. Interspersed are the occasional Yoni, the equivalent female part being impregnated by all the lingums that surround it under water. Beautiful carvings abound but all those of human or godly depiction have had their heads whacked off through the centuries by warring neighbors. Nothing much has changed since then. We are a species that has honed its ability to destroy over a very long period of time. We're still working on it. There is an area below that is also interesting and the shade makes it all the more pleasant.

Mr. Visoth is waiting for us when we return and takes us to our next destination point... the beautiful and sensual temples of Banteay Srei. These are carved in Red Sandstone and are perhaps the most ornate of any of the temples. These were my favorite in '04 and well worth a revisit today. Banteay Sauire is next with some beautiful lions posing on a southern facing terrace. That is me with the lion... he is a bit scary.

From here we go to Ta Prohn for what is the most classic views that many people will recognize at the Angkor complex. This is where the jungle and the ruins compete. They are so entwined with one another that to remove one is to destroy the other... they are the living definition of symbiosis.

(left) The tree/three of us... competing

I have taken a sepia toned photo (above) to add to the otherworldly feel this place has in abundance. Of course, the often loud and thoughtless tour groups are a minor annoyance, but tolerable. The minor temple of Prasat Kravan is a stop on the way back where we see a simple unfinished temple with decorations made of brick.

Mr. Visoth takes us back to the Old Market ares of Siem Reap (Siem = Thailand, Reap = destroyed, therefore a name harking back to a victory in war over Thailand... a war where Thailand tried to take the temples of Angkor for themselves. Today, Siem Reap has over 2 million visitors a year and it is the economic boom town of Cambodia. Huge and many hotel complexes are up or being built everywhere... with high end resorts and gambling part of the offering. If that isn't enough, there are massive shopping malls as well.

We, on the other hand are delivered to the Old Market area where we find an ATM machine with no money in it... and so we opt instead to do some early evening street grunting... the art of eating street food I first learned while traveling through Mexico during the late 60's and 70's. Bob and Vivian are even more experienced and so when we see the outdoor tables and smell the bar-b-ques going along the street across from the famous Red Piano, we know this must be our dinner spot. We had delicious noodle, chicken and vegetable dishes with the most fantastic fruit shakes ever. Delicious. But expensive. About $2 per person... and believe it or not, for Cambodia, Siem Reap is expensive. High end hotel rooms can start at $400/night and easily go up to $1000/night. A beer on the rooftop of our hotel, under a thatched roof and back down for a nice night of sleep. More to come.

Post script: It takes about five minutes for each photo to post on this slow computer... so rather than the five pix I had hoped to post... I will have to settle for two. I'm trying to work on this.

Tuk-tuks, Baichecks and Beemos

This is an imperfect attempt at holding the setting sun in my hand our first night at Angkor. We arrived in Siem Reap early enough to sneak in a quick trip to sunset at Ankor Wat! It's like being home... no kidding. These monks thought so too!

I love all the ways mankind has invented different forms of simple people moving. Depending where in the world you are, peddle bike carriages, motorbike carriages or tiny mini, mini vans with two rows of parallel seats in the back, are some of the most efficient and quickly available simple modes of moving people around invented by person kind. Glad I don't have to peddle one of these vehicles.

We start off today with a mini van to the bus terminal where we board a six hour express bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap. Nice bus with toilet below, nice televisions playing not so nice kung fu movies... a free water bottle and cookie. Oh yeah... air conditioning too! Once out of the city, the next two hours are spent driving through delightful villages hugging the highway 6 countryside. All manners of products are manufactured or sold by these various "poor" villages, it is apparent indeed that the economy during the past four years since my last visit here has been kind to historically hind teat sucking Cambodia.
We stop at a rest stop for lunch ...a rest stop that is a giant enterprise zone with children and young women lighting like flies on the vulnerable prey of tourists emptying from the buses.
Nice mounds of sandwiches, produce, bugs and roasted tarantulas. I'm tempted but then remember I don't want to jeopardize my health at one of my favorites places on the planet. We purchase some nice pastries, a beautifully sheath folded rice cake in bamboo wrapping that looks like some form of origami. Too pretty to eat! Another three hours on the bus, similar sites and we pull into the bus station in Siem Reap where a nice gent is holding a sign that says "Vivian Vaughan" which was a site for sore eyes in that we weren't sure the small little hotel called Eight Rooms had really received our reservation. Not only was all well, but we were quickly chauffeured off by Tuk-tuk to our hotel about 15 nice and breezy minutes away. I love the way TUK-TUKS and Beichecks give you a people level view of the world with a sniff of whatever is going on around you. It is a visual, olfactory and "people's introduction" to wherever you find yourself lucky enough to be aboard.

Our hotel is nice and we quickly move in around 3 and by 4, we have hired another tuk-tuk to take us on the half hour trip to purchase our three day pass to the temples of Angkor. I'm happy to be here once again... this most magical of magic places. We get our picture passport for three days and are off to the main temple for just a quick "preview" visit in the less than two hours left of light. The two pix above are from this two hour window of enlightenment... that is, I think I got the pix to finally post. I told you Angkor was magic... believe it!

I will try to summarize my feelings in a later blog entry... but suffice to say... this place is like no other in the world... the karmic universe centers here... I know, I know... I sound like a Santa Cruz cosmic muffin... and you know I'm not... so take this to hart!

A rather nothing meal at a Burmese restaurant that had been recommended to us was disappointing... but that is only the yang answering the over-abundance of yin already on my plate. No regrets. Arranged a driver to take us around for the next three days as we want to get out to some of the temples that are less visited... and with such distances of this enormous temple complex, a car and driver are a must. More to come. You should finally see some pix on this post... hip, hip, hurray! Now I can learn how to maximize their effectiveness within a given piece of writing. More to come... Mark

No man can FIND the island

We started the day off with a beautiful sunrise, breakfast and a tuk-tuk ride to the Japanese bridge over the Ton Le Sac River. Our goal is a 30 km island within the Mekong River that boast of artisan shops and a few beaches. We walk across this large and long bridge with scooters, bicycles, cars and trucks all competing for the same spaces. We are off to the side and for 15 minutes we are being buzzed by the traffic next to our footpath. 100 feet below, long primitive fishing boats are casting their nets for small anchovy-like fish glistening silver in the light. Not sure I would eat from this river. Great pix though. We stop and have a tart from a roadside bakery and are approached by some young boys ...we take and show them photographs of themselves. Always a sure-fire laugh and mini bonding moment. A monk shows up in the usual Saffron robes and workers come out from behind their counters to bring him food in exchange for his chanted blessings. This seems quite routine in and around Cambodia.

We are to walk 2.5km beyond the bridge, find a Chinese Temple on the right, walk through it, turn left to the next road, another right and we should arrive at a ferry crossing to the island.
We try several machinations of the above to no avail. But... we did find ourselves inside a remote Buddhist monastery/school with classes in session, and the most surreal ceremony of a monk purifying a woman by splashing dozen upon dozen bowls of water onto her kneeling body while another monk nearby sang and chanted aloud while burning great amounts of incense. This was right out of a dream... and later, Bob speculated one possible scenario was that perhaps she was recently divorced and needed to be spiritually rebooted. Not a bad theory... but only a theory. Though we are not finding our destination point, we are getting some terrific shots of not only the life inside a Buddhist temple but also of village life as we walk about a mile down a dirt road right through a large extended village of poor Cambodians.

It is a pleasant enough day. This can be a very hot area and was, in fact, the hottest location on my trip here in '04. But even though it is not oppressively hot, one does get sweaty and tired walking for long. We decide to find something cold to drink at what looks to be as close to a Chinese temple as we are able to find. We approach and meander through the maze of large spaces to be seated under a palm gazebo by the rivers edge. This giant facility can easily seat a thousand people at the unending numbers of dinner tables in front of a stage. We are the only customers here at 11 am. It is Leap Day! The menu is equally unfamiliar and the soft drinks they bring us are equally foreign. We are in the twilight zone... I'm sure.

We order off the menu anyway and when the food comes, my dish is a sort of ground beef soup with egg whites swimming among hundreds of tiny wormy looking half inch long dark thread-like "things". We conclude they are probably some kind of sea grass (since nothing moves on its own power). To be honest, it was decent and tasty though I might not order it again first chance possible. We decide this place is a sort of night club and as we are leaving, a young couple enter with family to go through what I imagine is their rehearsal for a wedding. Clearly a wedding. They pose for a picture... we take it.

We never did find our ferry terminal nor our island but this is what sometimes happens when just striking out. You may find other things that are equally interesting ...just not what you intended. ""Same, same but different" as they say in many parts of SE Asia. We catch a tuk-tuk back to the hotel and conclude this was worthwhile indeed.

The afternoon was spent at the National Museum in Phnom Penh where the sculptures were very nice... lot's of Buddhas and Ganishes and stone figures from the Ramayana... but all second place to the delightful Siam style building constructed in 1904 that they were housed in. Nice sienna color that compliments the greens of the abundant foliage in the courtyard. Nice.

For dinner we try a rooftop garden where we meet the proprietor... and ex New Yorker who married a young Cambodian woman. Two children later, he and her family live in this beautiful restaurant and home complex they built on top of this four story building with views over the juncture of the Ton Le Sap and the Mekong Rivers. He had a very high end European menu with very high prices to boot. We were his only customers and we indulged only in some very cold Belgian beers (can you believe it?). The proprietor is the kind of person whom you must not ask questions of... unless you have a lot of time and want to hear a travel weary string of complaints that may or may not have anything to do with the question asked. We bid goodbye, and say goodnight. Tomorrow we catch a six hour bus to Siem Reap for access to my favorite worldly architectural wonder... the Temples of Angkor Wat and the 100 square miles of more ruins surrounding it. Even after Machu Pichu... this is still the most dramatic place to me.
Haven't had time to try posting pix... but think I may have a chance now that I have burned a CD of the photos on the chip and reformatted the chip. We'll see. Until then, Mark