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Published: February 19th 2013
"Do you want to see Angkor Wat in Cambodia?
My mother tilted her head. "I've already seen it," she said in Korean.
"No, you haven't. What do you mean you've seen it?"
"Yes, I did," she said.
Wait for iiiiiiiit. "On documentary!"
Classic mom moment.
Siem Reap
I realized too late that passport photos are required to receive a Cambodian entry-visa. We entered without photos, but luck was on our side and we were charged an extra US$1/person on top of the standard US$20/person visa-on-arrival fee.
(Note: We didn't exchange any of our US dollars as it's interchangeable with the Cambodian Riel. Along those lines, the US$ to Cambodian Riel exchange rate was ludicrous even for the expected, inflated airport rate.)
Kong, our taxi driver from the airport, seemed reliable, so we agreed to use his taxi at a daily rate of $25. My mom wouldn't last long in a tuk-tuk, vulnerable to the sun like a newly made vampire, even with 200SPF sunscreen, a hat and long sleeves--very Korean.
When booking our accommodation online, I added the note:
No smoking. We would greatly appreciate a good view. Thank You. I
don't believe anybody reads these requests, but always fill in the box because it's there.
When we found ourselves on the top floor, smack in the middle of the hotel with the best view (no bribes involved!) looking at the big, yellow air-balloon that goes up-and-down next to Angkor Wat, I decided I'll continue filling in the note box from here on out.
First Impressions
My friends warned that the temples would be overrun with Chinese tourists. I laughed at the irony when I realized the busloads of tourists are full of Koreans. Many of the restaurants lining National Route 6 (the Airport Road with many hotels) are Korean, too. I wondered,
Where did Cambodia go? The hotel buffet even served kimchi . . . for breakfast. It was a plus in my mom's book who was now convinced that busloads of Koreans are traveling like swarms over Southeast Asia and that many hotels serve breakfast kimchi. Up to this point, I had yet to run into to so many Korean tourists outside of Los Angeles. I shared this with my mom who replied, "It's a seasonal thing." I briefly entertained the idea of
Koreans falling from the sky like a spring shower, landing on the ground and immediately boarding the buses that awaited their arrival.
Taking a lazy first day, we wandered to Pub Street for some Khmer food at the Cambodian Soup Restaurant. It was here that we encountered our first salesman, er, salesboy. People sitting at surrounding tables gave glances in our direction. Four waitresses stood around waiting for our response to the boy's sales pitch.
The boy, about 10-13, laid out postcards on our table and said, "Puh-lease, buy postcards."
I asked my mom in Korean, "Do you want any?" She shuffled through the postcards without giving sign as to whether she would buy them or not.
"Please," he said with the most heartbreaking, lower-lip inflating pout that all children master early on, "only one dollah."
Having received forewarning, I urged my mom in Korean, "
Ummah, if you want them, I'll buy them for you, but if you don't, we shouldn't mislead him into thinking we'll buy them."
Nodding in agreement, she said, "Next time. Not today." I translated to the boy.
He replied, "No later. Today. Now." Blinking, blinking his big, puppy-dog
Doctor Fish
My mother is happy here. She found the fish massage very relaxing while I gave up after multiple attempts. No fish nibbles for these sensitive toes.eyes.
Trying to stay polite and not wanting to encourage the begging, I said, "Sorry, we're not interested right now."
"Later too late! Now!"
As much as I'm a sucker for kids, I'm not a fan of tantrums. "No. Thank you." Final answer.
He stood there as we waited for food in awkward silence. He continued pleading until one of the waitresses finally told him off with sharp words and a gentle hand on his shoulder after which all the waitresses laughed and focused their attention elsewhere.
Later on, we saw a couple sit down in the restaurant across from us. Another child immediately approached them with a pile of postcards, and we watched the event like everyone else.
How Far Does $1 Go?
You're in Cambodia where young children, teenagers and adults everywhere seem to be asking--some selling, others scamming--for a $1. How many of them will you give $1 or more? I have yet to live or visit a place where the following groups do not exist: beggars, the impoverished, the few rich, the NGOs, the corrupt, tourists/expats, not always exclusive or inclusive of each other.
In the
States, most homeless people hold signs for money along with a canister for change. If the signs are especially creative or make me laugh, I give money because I feel making another person laugh is a valuable gift. When I was younger, I could rarely keep a dollar bill in my wallet if somebody was begging because I thought the guilt would eat me inside out.
Now, I rarely give money to somebody who is begging. Part of the reason is that the situation is much more complex than having money or not having money, and try as I might, I still don't have a full grasp on the inner-workings of charities unless I'm physically working with them.
I've volunteered in women's shelters that provide babysitting while poor or abused mothers look for jobs, and my K-12 schooling often encouraged or arranged volunteer work or donations for homeless shelters. I think social programs are one-up on donating money, but even then, social programs tend to have their own failings and many corrupt charities consume unnecessary amounts of donations instead of giving it to the intended recipients.
I remember seeing one particularly extravagant and gorgeous architectural building in
London belonging to a globally recognized charity and thinking,
Did the money go to the right place? That same money or even construction could have gone towards their raison d'être, I found myself feeling self-righteous and judgmental. Then again, flip the question on its head,
don't charitable people deserve rewards or must it be 100%!s(MISSING)elfless? Perhaps some well-to-do person had offered to build the lavish offices as a charity, who knows? I always end up in a philosophical debate questioning the possibility of selflessness and the bad name selfishness receives.
I've also heard counter-arguments that some charities, though full of good intentions, end up replacing local jobs (say, in construction and home building), or make it more difficult for people to become self-reliant. I've also ranted before on religious NGOs that oftentimes ask for a return in spiritual belief (
payment by souls, I like to call it).
I concede that I have met altruistic people with good intentions, but there's something about charities that attracts a lot of scammers, too. Then there are the in-betweeners, people who go looking for self-validation, others who expect something in return, and still others who go for the experience and stories.
I thought about some children I had seen in Chiang Mai who were dressed in local costume and made to perform for money. I waited to see what would happen when a tourist gave them money. Out of nowhere, their mother (maybe) took the money from the children and scolded them to stop being lazy and continue performing (I assumed this from her gesticulations).
I sat wondering about the boy with the postcards. He was nowhere to be seen.
Surely he didn’t create those postcards. Where did the money go? How was it split up? Shouldn’t he be in school?
About five years ago, I was pretend assaulted by a homeless man while in the States. What fascinated me about the encounter was that he had waited for the precise moment when a police squad was near, so that when he began yelling incoherently and raising his fists at me the police ran over and arrested him.
One of the officers returned to ask if I was okay, which I was, and said I probably wouldn't have been assaulted. "In the wintertime," he explained, "a lotta’ homeless people do stupid stuff right in front of
us. They wanna’ git arrested so they have shelter 'n some food, even if it's in jail. Can't blame 'em, either."
Sometimes You Give a Dollar, Sometimes You Don't
The next morning, when my mom and I were flocked by young children with postcards, books, scarves and other trinkets, we bought a hat from one of the young girls because my mom had forgotten hers. It could have just as easily been the boy with the postcards. If we were to give a dollar to all the kids running around Cambodia asking for money, we might as well as forgone visiting in the first place.
I asked Mr. Kong if the overwhelming number of orphans was due to the recent civil war. These days, he said, many couples have children at a young age and find themselves unable to support the entire family. Sometimes one parent will leave the family to provide one less mouth to feed. Other times, parents give-up their child(ren) to local orphanages because of the increased likelihood that their children will be better fed and supported. There's a lot of controversy over whether this is good or not.
Mr. Kong,
our driver, doesn't give money to the children. His money goes to his parents, wife, children and extended family. If he puts money aside, it's for his three children and their future education if he can afford to send them to a higher education or help them create their own business.
Later on in our trip, my mother and I saw an older tourist of indeterminable origin holding thick bundles of Cambodian Riel 2-3 inches thick. She handed out the crisp currency to the poor people lining a staircase leading up to a temple, probably US$1/person. Behind her, a local Cambodian man held more bundles. It was without a doubt an altruistic act, but made me delve into a philosophical debate again.
Mr. Kong proudly told us the stories of a local government official who was considered one of the most altruistic men in the community. The man is responsible for many schools and infrastructure that have been built to improve Siem Reap. He is renown for random acts of kindness like stopping his car at strangers' weddings and paying for post-wedding feasts.
I'm not a Mother Theresa or a Scrooge. I'm much more of an average
Jane who sometimes gives and sometimes doesn't. I'm still figuring out and planning a better means of giving back to one's community whether it's the place I call home or a place I am travelling through.
Where do you stand?
Note:
RENanDREW had this interesting link in their blog (
Sugar and spice and a hint of sour in Siem Reap (and the Angkorian Temples)) and I thought other people might find it illuminating as well:
ChildSafe International Note: More about Cambodia and Mr. Kong in upcoming blogs
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Bob Carlsen
Congratulations on blog #30...
and for your thought on beggers and things like begging. I went to Uganda in October 2008 to learn construction management in the East Africa environment...specifically how do they use the 100% plans and specifications we send them to use in construction. I learned that they only use the floor plna and do not follow the detailed desig and specifications that would ensure the structural integrity of the building. I left thinking that we were being to precise for their environment. Also anything that can use manpower rather than equipment they use manpower...to paint center lines on highways, to crush rock, etc. I'm like you in believing that giving to beggers is not the solution.