A Dark History - 13th - 16th Jun 06

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With Derek now back on the scene, we were ready to mount our offensive against Cambodia and thought perhaps the best way to launch a surprise attack was by was of a tourist bus, filtering through the border. We left early and surprisingly were handed cold water and face towels, and had a couple of seats each. The journey to the border was quick and simple as was the crossing, yet shortly after, we hit the dirt roads and then pulled up on the banks of the river to catch a car ferry over to the other side. Waiting in line we were struck by the drastic decline in the standard of living. The ground was strewn with rubbish, children were running around wearing torn clothes or none at all, some of them as young as six, attempting to sell their wares to you through the window of the bus. We were also struck by how many amputees we saw, generally the victims of landmines which is an enormous problem in Cambodia. As the bus edged onto the ferry, a 4x4 piled full of poultry pushed its way on board. Had the chickens not looked so close to death, the vehicle would surely have taken off! It was quite horrible to watch their sad little faces, packed together so tight they were dying from heat exhaustion - not only that, they were having to suffer their owners climbing across them to find a comfy seat on the winged contraption. Under our own steam once more, we passed through a lot of Cambodian countryside, settlements sporadically appearing alongside the road, and the paddy fields stretching out onto the vast plains behind. As far as the eye could see there appeared to be no change in the terrain - it was flat as a pancake! The road itself, National Route 1, was a single lane highway consisting of brown gravel beset with suspension damaging pot holes and insanely camouflaged diversions, purportedly avoiding road works - all factors conspiring to render your arse extremely numb! Still, the journey was fun, interesting and different and we arrived in the greatly anticipated Phnom Penh ready for some historical and cultural 'hedumacation'!
Dismounting from the bus in the city centre was cultural enough. Tens of moto and tuk tuk drivers fought over each other for our attention. If you let yourself get carried away, it was almost like being famous - dark sunnies on, needling your way through the paparazzi to the entrance of a swanky London bash! But really it was more a case of struggling round to the back of the bus to reclaim the bags and retreating (with an entourage) to a quiet corner until a pin could be put in the map and a decision as to where to go had been made. Once it had, and one single tuk tuk driver had successfully monopolised our custom, we were escorted across the busy main road running through the centre of Phnom Penh to a tuk tuk made for two. With six backpacks, six daypacks, three large men, three little girls, a driver and two conical hats (the pointy ones they wear in the paddy fields) cosily aboard, we set off to Spring Guesthouse with the chassis making sparks on the road and feeling particularly like we were going to slowly capsize when rounding a corner. This would have been rather comical, by the way, as we were going so slowly we would probably have ended up in the same positions, helpless to move, uninjured, just keeled over - a bit like some of you will recall, Bob Whitaker's incident in a mirror dinghy many years ago when it capsized, whilst he had a bad back, in six inches of water!
We spent the remainder of the afternoon relaxing in a funky little bar with free internet so that Whits could sort out her tickets to Hong Kong to visit her Mum who would be there on business.
That evening we ventured down to the Tonle Sap River and its many contemporary restaurants which line its banks. Phnom Penh is really mixed by the obvious poverty of the beggars and an almost chic cafe, bar and restaurant scene - a contrast which highlights the infamous corruption that affects a Cambodian in every walk of life. Whilst choosing from a menu in one of the more modest restaurants, in hobbled a book seller on crutches. One of his legs was missing at the hip, a sight that we would become remarkably accustomed to over the coming days. He wore a neckerchief and a mischievous glint in his eye. Upon our refusal to purchase one of his books, he lifted his neckerchief to reveal a gigantic hairy tarantula perched just below his left shoulder, before quickly about turning and limping off, threatening us with a later return. In shock, we all couldn't believe what we had seen and Wigg, who hates spiders but hadn't actually seen it was gripped with the shudders! When the book seller returned an hour later, Whits and Wigg shot up and made for the back of the restaurant in double quick time. None of us had ever seen them move that fast (except perhaps when Whits ran through the fire escaping the scorpion at the Orange River!) - highly amusing! After the strange dinner, we ambled down to another bar and met up once more with Kate and Claire and their friend Hedd, who's name we all have extreme difficulty in pronouncing - it's Welsh if that helps, and sounds a bit like 'cave'! We had a couple of beers before heading home, leaving Ross and Kate in search of a 24 hour pub!
The next morning the girls and Derek arose, arranging to meet the lads later, and headed off to the King's Palace and the Silver Pagoda. Finding it closed we diverted to the National Museum , where we found a great collection of Angkorian sculpture, including Hindu deities as well as many examples of the carved ruins of the Angkor Kingdom. The girls were given sticks with Jasmine flowers on to offer to a statue of Vishnu. The gardens were beautiful. There was a collection of ponds in the courtyard, full of different plants and pondlife.
Feeling very satisfied with the museum we left and headed over to the Teoul Sleng Genocide Museum, also named S-21. After the shock of being greeted by a very facially deformed begger upon arrival, we ducked into another trendy restaurant directly opposite the entrance to the museum to wait for Bulk and Wigg. Yet another stark contrast. The boys turned up and after lunch we began our tour around the gut wrenching museum, a former school turned prison and national headquarters for torture during the Pol Pot Regime. Forking out for a guide made the tour slightly more informative, though the heavy Cambodian accent made deciphering what was being explained pretty hard going. We began by visiting the school yard, now a grave yard for the only 14 bodies found in the building by the Vietnamese troops when they took Phnom Penh from the Khmer Rouge. In the classrooms alongside the yard we saw where these people were tortured as well as photographs of them on the wall, as they were found - dead and chained to a bed frame in the middle of a blood splattered room for example. There were also instruments of torture on the floor. Every building, except building C, had been cleaned of the blood etc to rid the museum of the hideous smell, which apparently clung to the air for years. Walking along the opposite side of the school yard our guide pointed out exercise bars, previously used by the school children in the 60's and 70's, which subsequently became torture posts, with people being tied to them in all manner of positions. Inside the next building, the 0.8x2 metre cells had been knocked down to make way for the 10,000+ individual photographs of the victims of genocide. The Khmer Rouge photographed every inmate, often safety pinning their prison numbers to their bare chests. Trying to imagine their fear when looking into their petrified eyes was almost unbearable. What was surprising was the amount of Khmer Rouge soilders, including young boys of 3 - 13 years, being held prisoner by their own kind. The inhumanity of this regime is utterly incomprehensible. In the next room were more photos of women and children and of the dead or skeletal men. Moving on we entered a room displaying instruments of torture including a contraption to remove fingernails and a box with leg irons in it which they used to fill with scorpions, obviosuly with the victim inside. The next room contained photographs of the excavations at the Killing Fields when some of the bodies were unearthed in 1980. There was also a cabinet of victims skulls on display. Across the yard and into another school building, the Cambodians have left intact the original single man cells, of which there were hundreds. Here we were told that a prisoner even had to ask permission from the guard to change position in his sleep! On the upper floors were communal cells where up to 20-30 people were attached by leg irons to one long bar and stacked up in rows along the class room floor. The barbed wire and bars had been left covering this building, which looked like a gift wrapped present from a horror film. The final building housed more photographs of Pol Pots victims and on the second floor we looked at photographs and read the biographies of some of the leaders of the Khmer Rouge, and the confessions of the Khmer Rouge soldiers - most of whom had been forced to commit atrocities for fear of their lives. Some young Khmer soldiers even killed their own mothers and fathers!
To further enhance this harrowing experience we decided to take ourselves off to the Killing Fields at Choeng Ek, some 16 k's away. The 10,000 + prisoners of S-21 ended up here in mass graves. In fact, of the 1000's that entered Teoul Sleng, only 7 came out alive, albeit barely. Our guide, who lost 3 of his own family members to the regime, showed us around the mass graves. He was present in 1980 when some of the graves were exhumed, and repeatedly told of the smell he encountered. We saw a monument built for the victims which had in excess of 8400 skulls encased in it, reaching 17 stories into the sky. We were also shown a baby bashing tree - a tree used by soldiers to murder babies by throwing them against it, as well as a grave for headless bodies - around 250 people. Walking along the rims of the graves, we encountered old bones and clothes scattered around. We had seen so much abhorrence in one day that our minds were beginning to shut down, so when we took a walk away from the crater-like graves towards some unearthed ones, and were followed by two little Cambodian children we were glad of the innnocent company - or so we thought! It turns out they were nurturing us the whole time so as to get a few Riel for a '1, 2, 3, smile' photograph. We're not that stupid, we knew what they were up to really, but we let them do business anyway.
On our way back to town, all 6 of us again riding in a small tuk tuk, we not only disovered how warm and welcoming the Cambodians are, but also that we were too heavy for a little moped to drag around, and our carriage got a flat. We all piled out, and whilst receiving lots of laughs, waves and smiles from passers by, our driver changed the tyre. Smithers was particularly moved when an old man with no arms returned her smile with great sincerity.
Not having damaged their emotions quite sufficiently, Smithers and Becs decided after dinner to visit the Mekong River cafe to watch a documentary about the Pol Pot Regime which included amazing footage of the evacuation of Phnom Penh in 1975.
The following day we were successful in our 2nd attempt to visit the King's Palace and Silver Pagoda. The palace was very beautiful and the Khmer architecture very intricate and appealing to the eye. The Silver Pagoda, so called as the floor is made from silver tiles, imported from France, each weighing a kilogram. It houses many Buddha relics, the centre-piece being a staute of Buddha encrusted with many diamonds. The gardens of the palace were again very beautiful, and the serenity and smell of the flowers was indeed a contrast to the atmosphere outside the walls. We also visited an example of a Khmer House traditionally built on stilts. Having completed the rounds at the palace, we made our way across town and explored a very interesting Russian market, rammed with curios packed down miniture alleyways. Smithers and Becs got a bit carried away with all the arty things dotted around, and wanted to take everything home!
That night, we decided to take a sunset cruise down the Tonle Sap to its confluence with the Mekong. We passed the Royal Palace along the way and skirted an interesting floating village full of life - children playing in the water and fisherman untangling their nets. It was great to see that at least the Cambodians can now live in peace. Back on shore we had dinner at a place called the Hope and Anchor, which found a soft spot in the hearts of Whits and Smithers, where we enjoyed a wonderful steak. After wasting some time on the internet we made our way to the 'Gym Bar' to watch the England vs Trinidad and Tobago game. The atmosphere was great in there with more TV's than you could hope for, and great service - you didn't even have to leave your seat to get a fresh beer. All of the locals were on our side too, which left just one woman, futiley shouting for the other side!
Due to some complications with Whit's ticket to Hong Kong, she had to knock about in Phnom Penh a bit longer to try and sort it out, and kindly Ross offered to take her 7.30am ticket to Siem Reap - no small favour as it followed the night of the England game! Rossy Doll unnerved Smithers and Becs at one point, mysteriously disappearing with time counting down to the departure of the bus. Nerves were fraying, but just in time, around the corner he came with 3 bacon butties in hand! The seven hour ride to Siem Reap was again a bumpy one - dirt roads and a horn happy kamikaze driver who nearly mowed down a cow, a toddler and a 4x4 respectively. At one particular 'service station' our new Vietnamese friend Quoc, bought Becs and Smithers a bamboo stick each packed with sticky rice and sealed with damp leaves. We felt obliged to eat the thing so between us we shared one, mud still splattered on the bamboo, and promised the other one to Pove, who we'd be meeting in a few days! It wasn't actually that bad, although we can't say we'd go out of the way to buy another one. Later on, Quoc bought a bag of deepfried Grasshoppers for 1000 Riel (16p approx) and duly offered them around. The monk sitting next to Quoc found our reactions highly amusing. After a little persuasion, Smithers and Ross both tried the critters, although couldn't bring themselves to eat the heads. Trying to persuade Becs to have a go, Smithers turned to her and said 'They really just taste like Smokey Bacon crisps', but her efforts were quickly spoilt when Becs was faced with a leg hanging out of Smithers mouth! We arrived in Siem Reap and after a tour of the available backpackers, we settled at a place called Popular Guesthouse and waited for the arrival of Wigg, Derek and Whitters later that day.
Ta Da

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Photos

The Tonle Sap
Cruising down the river

Rossy Doll
Playing traditional instruments

Do you think England were playing that night?!
Derek, Jo, Ross, Me and Wigg cruising on the Tonle Sap

Phnom Penh
The Silver Pagoda