Monday, 18th July 2016

Sometimes you meet someone who endangers your existence on this planet. I met one this morning when a Jason King moustache-man introduced himself as our driver / potential assassin. He was tasked with getting us safely and reasonably swiftly from Otres to Phnom Penh. His aim however was to get us there with the minimum focus on safety and the maximum focus on swiftness. Could he get there in under 3 hours? He was going to try! Sitting next to him in the front passenger seat made me very aware of the many risks he seemed to be taking as he weaved at speed through the traffic which was heavily populated with oil tankers trucking towards the capital. I winced and struck involuntarily at my imaginary brake when I realised that the days of an unfortunate dog who had decided to lope leisurely in front of our chauffeur's path was about to be ended. Jason King moustache-man exhaled a curt, derisive laugh aimed towards me as I had revealed a weak, softhearted approach to the continuation of a four legged creature's existence. I heard no thud against or under the car's bodywork so perhaps the dog survived and our crazy driver continued to Mario-Cart his way, on frantic mode, to the capital until the roads became congested with traffic and water / floods as we closed in on Phnom Penh.

And so we arrived shaken and stirred at our next hotel, The Anise Villa Boutique Hotel. We goodbyed our driver with speed, wishing to end our relationship with him as soon as our feet and luggage hit the pavement...and did not reward his crazy motoring with either a visual sign of appreciation or a dollar or two tip. Relief!

As the evening was drawing in, we decided to eat at our hotel and leave the exploration of the capital to the next few days. Once again I opted for a fish amok which disappointed me this time. However, the tiramasu and lao lager saved the day or rather the evening! We retired then to watch the hotel's DVD, "The Killing Fields", in our room in preparation for tomorrow's activities.

Tuesday, 19th July 2016

Our hotel had organised a driver for the day for $40 and Mr T, as he introduced himself, arrived at nine and quickly took on the persona of a human Danger Mouse. Bizarrely, he asked if I spoke Spanish and we engaged lightheartedly in basic Spanish for the first part of our tour.

The lighthearted tone receded totally at our first stop of the day at the Killing Field / Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre. At the entrance, we were fitted with audio guides and the three of us walked and paused at our own pace as we listened to the horrific history of the centre. There was a noticeable, respectful all-embracing silence self-imposed by every adult who seemed to be trying to make sense of the madness of the place. We shuffled slowly past sights of slaughter, listening to witnesses' voices recount how everyday farm implements would be used to kill the victims. They were cheaper than bullets!

The victims? If you were educated, you would be killed. And if you were weak, or wore glasses, or had gentle hands, or were old, or were a child, or were innocent, you would be killed. Among Pol Pot's many edicts was the instruction, “Better to kill an innocent by mistake than spare an enemy by mistake.”

The methods used to kill were horrendous and one site which stands out in my mind is the site beside the killing tree against which children's skulls were smashed before being thrown into the adjacent grave.

Over 20,000 were killed here and in the memorial building, the Stupa, at the end of the route, thousands of skulls are displayed ascending in a tall glass case and are organised according to how the victims were killed...by iron bar, hammer, bamboo stick, etc.

After looking at the thousands of skulls stacked up high in the Stupa, we spent some time, as many visitors seemed to be doing, reflecting on what we'd seen and heard. This place is another stark warning that evil men with hate in their hearts are a constant threat to peace and a reminder that the only way to keep history from repeating itself is to learn about it.

Here's one website with more details of the centre.
https://whatthesaintsdidnext. com/2015/05/19/the-killing-fields-of-ca mbodia/

The Genocidal Centre is not an easy place tto spend time at but for any adult or teenage traveller to Phnom Penh it is an essential visit.

The same can be said of the second place Mr T took us to, S-21 Prison.

Before the victims were killed at what now is the Killing Fields / Genocidal Centre, most were held and interrogated and tortured in S-21 Prison, formerly Tuol Svay Pray High School. The following website gives more precise details about the centre.

http://www.killingfieldsmuseu m.com/s21-victims.html

Our visit to S-21 was perhaps even more harrowing than the Genocidal Centre. The skulls we looked at in the Genocidal Centre could be identified as flesh and blood here. We could see their faces and see the fear in their eyes because the Khmer Rouge photographed each individual when they were brought into S-21 before their interrogation. Each individual was made to sit in a precise upright manner, looking into the lens of the camera. Hundreds if not thousands of these haunting photographs are now displayed in the rooms and the victims seem to stare out at you as you consider the unimaginable tortures inflicted on them.

The buildings and grounds still have the feel of an ordinary school campus with blackboards still hanging in rooms where students once were taught. But of course there's a strong smell of evil around the place.

The beds of torture to which prisoners were shackled remain in the first few rooms we entered, together with enlarged photographs of the mutilated victims found on those beds when the Khmer Rouge ran for the hills but not before they had killed anyone who might testify against them.

There is an audio guide which all visitors are given which means that each visitor is in his / her own world following the stories of S-21. As in the Genocidal Museum, visitors seem to self-impose a respectful peacefulness and accept without question that this is not a place for "I was there selfies".

Only a handful of prisoners escaped with their lives when S-21 was finally liberated and on our way towards the exit, we were asked by a woman who sat with an elderly man if we would like to buy the book "Survivor". This we did. The man turned out to be Chum Mey, one of the survivors who now spends much of his time at the prison greeting the visitors to S-21.

At this point, a smiling Mr T came into the museum to check on our progress and suggested that we should move on as were behind schedule. It seemed that we would be unlikely to get to fit in all of the stops in the schedule. Schedule? We had booked him to take us to the Genocidal Museum and S-21 but were willing to go somewhere else if time allowed.

Following a quick stop at an ice-cream parlour which paraded many unfamiliar flavours...I do suggest avoiding durian, unless you desire an unpleasant experience or have an unusual palate..., Mr T dropped us off outside The Royal Palace. We had no great desire to explore the extravagant wealth and exorbitant beauty exhibited inside following our morning learning about Pol Pot's exploits. However, we paid the steepish entry fee but politely rebutted requests from potential guides at $10 a throw as we were getting weary and did not fancy detailed information about the place. I do think that it would have been wiser to visit the palace on another day because the contrast between wealth and woe was too great on the same day.

At half three-ish, we left the tourists to continue to amble inside the palace's grounds. Time to meet up again with Mr. T and his motor. But no sign! It would be an understatement to say that it was pretty hot by now and that we were ready to move on...probably to the market area...but we had no choice but to loiter beside the tuk-tuk drivers who spend their time trying to coax exiting Royal Palace visitors onto their vehicles. Fifteen minutes passed, as did thirty, as did forty five and Mt. T was nowhere. Having set half four as the cut off time in our minds, one hour after leaving the palace's grounds, we took the tuk-tuk of one or newly acquired acquaintances back to our hotel. We had agreed through our hotel to pay Mr. T $40, which was probably somewhat excessive in Phnom Penh terms, for a 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. for the taxi. We wondered how he would justify his disappearance but we knew we'd hear more from Mr. T as we had not yet paid him!

The hotel were extremely apologetic and were on the case. They told us that such behaviour by the taxi driver reflected badly on them. The excuse given by Mr. T was that he could not find us which was not a credible explanation as we had been standing at the exit, next to where he dropped us off!, for over an hour! As a result, we accepted that we would $20 to him through the hotel and asked that he should not allocated to us as our driver next time!

Following a wind down in the late afternoon, we took a tuk-tuk across the city to the Friends restaurant. The food is glorious there and although it is aimed at tourists, as the prices are out of the league of most locals, it is probably worth eating there because it is set up to train and employ street children and marginalised young people. We left for our waiting tuk-tuk after the meal stuffed having been unable to refuse the magnificent desserts. We paid $5 for the two way journey, which included the tip, to the driver.

Another adventure ahead of us tomorrow!

Wednesday, 20th July 2016

Only a few days left now of our time in Cambodia and South Vietnam! Today was to be an another energetic, activity day!

We were due to be picked up by a member of Adventure Tours at 9 a.m. They had been highly recommended by the Australian family we met when staying at the Tamu Hotel, Otres 2. But no-one turned up at nine. We feared that we were going to be victims of a second non-appearance. However, this was clearly our fault this time. We didn't know that there were two hotels called Anise in Phnom Penh. We were staying at Anise Hotel but our guide arrived before nine o' clock at Anise Villa on the other side of the city.

But Kim, our guide, took this in his stride and soon realised what had happened. While we waited for him to reach us, I talked to a member of the family who owned our hotel. She told me how she returned to Phnom Penh three years ago from her adopted home in the United States of America almost forty years after leaving. Her family were fortunate enough to have fled before the Khmer Rouge had cleared the population out of Phnom Penh, killing those who dared to resist and making the rest work as slaves in the fields. A minor crime such as stealing a mango to eat would be punished with death. It was only three years ago that she felt confident enough to return to contribute to the regeneration of the city.

In good spirits, we joined Kim in a tuk-tuk and were fitted up with our mountain bikes before we cycled down a slipway and onto the ferry which would take us across to the Silk Islands.

We arrived and moved alongside a marauding mass of dust lifting vehicles up a dirt track and then through a small Vietnamese settlement which had been established by war-escaping refugees. Here we cycled around a precariously positioned man who tottered on a ladder in the middle of our path as he tried to put up decorations for a forthcoming wedding. On we went, well-lotioned from the threatening sun, into the countryside. We passed by uninterested, tethered cows who dozed beside isolated shacks and high-fived youngsters who shouted their hellos as we cycled by.

Kim informed us about his concerns about the effects of global warming on the seasons which seemed to be threatening the consistency of the weather during the rainy season. The soil is too dry and the farmers live in fear of their crops failing.

Eventually, we reached the silk-making home where the impressive sisters who ran the business gave us cold drinks and a selection of tropical fruits....mangosteen, longan, pomelo, and green-skinned oranges. We sat outside as Jimmy the dog befriended us and snoozed beside our feet.

When we had cooled down a little, the eldest sister showed us the silk-making process. We watched the silk worms eating the mulberry leaves and afterwards the sisters showed us how they create intricately designed silk materials on their 40 year old looms. Caitlin and Alyson also had an opportunity to try their hands, and feet, on a loom.

Alyson and Caitlin then spent some time browsing around the silk scarves for sale and ended up spending about $100 on a number of items produced by the sisters. The prices seemed more than fair as we have checked out prices of similar silk scarves in shops in Ho Chi Minh City. Caitlin and Alyson have a few gifts to pass on to friends and relatives back home. One or two for themselves too!

Following this, we cycled to a nearby Buddhist temple and its palatial grounds where locals were celebrating some sort of festival. This was called the Lobster Pagoda, as lobsters were previously found in abundance in the local river. There were many wildly excited children chasing around the place and someone tottered scarily towards us dressed up as a huge, weird female character. Apparently, the locals were celebrating the Festival of the Rainy Season and this was the reason for some unusually costumed bodies bouncing colourfully around the place.

A lot of the wealth that this poor area has created seems to have been used to create the surprisingly opulent buildings and statues found inside the temple's grounds. A substantial resting Buddha and a pair of gaudy statues of full-size elephants caught the eye as we headed through towards the cremation site at the back of the grounds.

Here, Kim gave us more details about marriage and death in Cambodia. Parents still tend to choose the partner for their son or daughter to marry although more youngsters are now beginning to make their own choices, especially in city areas. Kim told us that he was able to make his own choice. He also referred to the stupas where the ashes were kept. He estimated that some of the stupas in the patch behind the cremation site cost around $10,000! People somehow or other scrape the money together for weddings and cremation ceremonies.

We cycled the short way back to the home of the silk makers for a dinner where the women had prepared a vegetarian meal for us . Fried rice and morning glory, or was it cabbage. Anyway, Caitlin liked it!

After a quick selfie at the silk-makers' home which included the sisters and Kim, the prediction was made by the women that the rains were about to fall. They were right! Our ferry was perhaps a half an hour's ride away and within minutes the dry dirt tracks were no longer dry. They had became became slippery mud trails and we began to struggle to cycle or even stand up as the gears were choked with thick terracotta-coloured clods of clay. The heavens were unloading a tumult onto our heads, to say the least and when we finally reached a tarmaced surface we were greeted by an apocalyptic thunder and lightning storm. Dogs whimpered in corners qhile locals gleefully observed us from the safety of their shelter. The going was very hard...but invigorating. We loved it!

Arriving at the track where we were to catch the ferry, we watched the minor mayhem as all sorts of traffic tried to disembark and make their way up through the muddy landing area onto the street which led to the Vietnamese village. A woman who had hundreds of drinks for sale precariously balanced on the bank of her scooter was lifted out of the mud and sympathetically pushed up the ramp by local workers. As was a four wheel drive SUV which refused to budge.

When the exiting vehicles had been cleared, we clambered on to the ferry. The storm was beginning to subside and within a few minutes or so, we were back on the Phnom Penh side of the river. Here, we passed our bikes on to co-workers of Kim who accompanied us back to our hotel on a tuk-tuk. $91 was the official cost of the day for us but Kim was worth the $9 tip.

As we planned to be up before 6 a.m. tomorrow to have an early breakfast and to get out in time to catch the Giant Ibis bus to Ho Chi Minh City, we had our evening meal in our hotel's restaurant and settled in for a relatively early night.

The end of a wonderful few weeks in Cambodia.