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Published: February 21st 2007
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Mangosteen
One of the greatest fruits on this planet. Not going to describe its flavor..how could I? We left the rainbow gathering with Katya and Mirko who were also traveling on bicycle. They’ve been on bikes in Asia for 4 ½ years.
Headed back up to Ranong, retracing our steps, or pedals rather, north. We had gotten up at sunrise and set off through the rolling tropical hills of the Thai west coast. By midday we had already ridden 50km and were happy to take a break during the heat of the day. We all got Pat Thai at a little roadside restaurant and rested, read books and drank matte.
We set out again determined to make it to Ranong, by sundown, which was still another 50km. Something else was in store for us.
Three kilometers down the road, Katya, who was taking up the rear, was hit by a pickup truck. Without going into all the details, amazingly she was mostly ok. Some deep cuts, heavy bruises and quite a bit of road rash. Her bike was totaled, the front of the truck was all smashed up and another car had rearended the truck.
A translator came, the police came, an ambulance came, some passersby stopped to check things out. The rest of
Katya
Katya, one of the most hard core cyclists I've ever met. A survivor. the day was spent at the hospital and the police station, where the insurance man showed up. I think he and the police chief were having a corruption contest and it was a tie for first.
Five hours later we were at the home of the translator, JoJo, who had a small eco-tourism business. She was a godsend in the whole situation helping Katya and Mirko through it all, offering her place to stay and cooking food. All the while translating with the insurance people, the tourist police, local police and eventually the governor of the province(..also a friend of JoJo he got involved to “encourage“ the insurance and police to handle everything in a timely manner).
JoJo would not succumb to the intimidation of the local police who kept hassling her for helping the foreigners, for this we were all grateful.
The next day in the late afternoon Nikki and I set off the rest of the way to Ranong where we would wait for Katya and Mirko once they finished up with the insurance people.
We had a 40km bike ride ahead of us which normally is no big deal. But the day
Nikkis Dream Train
Now that's rare, an entire car to yourself on a train to Bangkok.? Remarkably comfortable. after a friend gets hit by a car on the same road. The screeching tire sound kept ringing through my ears. I have a button pinned to my handlebar bag that says “END FEAR”. This days ride would test that motto. There’s some cliché about getting back on the horse when it bucks you off. A friend of mine says, ”..worrying’s like wishing for what you don’t want..” that was applicable advice on this day too. In any case we were back on our bikes.
One of the highlights of our ride to Ranong was one stretch of road where a bunch of kids, maybe 3rd graders, had been dropped off by the school bus. One boy was facing me as I headed toward him. I stuck my hand out, he stuck his hand out and we gave each other five as I went by.
We hung out in Ranong for a couple days before those guys showed up. Katya was doing a lot better, able to walk pretty good. She was in good spirits, excited to get a new bike and looking forward to riding again. We all chilled out in town for a few days along
Welcome to Poi Pet
It was quite a stark difference between Thailand and Cambodia. Boarder towns, the world over, have a strange feeling. with quite a few other rainbow folks.
It became clear that it was time for Nikki and I to head out(partly because our most recent Thailand visa was running out and we only had a few days to get out of the country).
We set out for Chumphon and made it there that night. Went directly to the train station and got a ticket for us and our bikes to Bangkok. The train was running 5 hours behind schedual! Were able to get some pretty good sleep on the train(we had a whole car to ourselves). Spent two days in Bangkok, Nikki got some pages added to her passport at the embassy. Got, what would be our last Durian for a while. And then hopped on another train to Aranyaprathet which was on the Cambodian boarder.
Spent the night at a Buddhist monastery. In the morning ate fruit offered us by the head monk, filled our water bottles from his rainwater catchment tank and set off ridding.
Just a few kms to the boarder. The usual hoops to jump through and $25 a piece and we were in Cambodia. Poi Pet was the name of the
Hand Powered Tricycle
One of many thousands of victims of war in Cambodia. town. Right off the bat Cambodia struck me as much poorer than Thailand.
Having been here a week now I think Cambodia is the poorest country I’ve been to. Decades of war and a totalitarian dictator wreaking genocide on the indigenous people resulting in famine which killed almost 2 million people in the 70’s. The country side is littered with land mines, consequently there are many people with one or no legs. A lot of them children, who shepherd the animals in the fields where a lot of these land mines are.
Nikki and I were sitting on a street corner in Siem Reap drinking coffee. In the hour or so we were there I counted a half a dozen or so hand powered tricycles in which sat a man with no legs. Usually they had something for sale like postcards or guidebooks. At night sometimes you’ll see a band of 5 guys playing traditional instruments on the street with a hat, all with no legs.
I stopped and talked with one guy selling guidebooks and belts from his hand-powered trike. I didn’t buy anything from him but I did give him a donation and asked if
I could take his picture. I told him about this website and how I’d like to share some of the reality of life in Cambodia with people who may not make it here to see for themselves. He said ok and gave me a flier with some pictures of his 3 sons and a little bit of his story which he wanted me to post also:
“This is Teng Dara, a double amputee landmine victim supporting his family by selling books and traditional monk belts. He lost both legs above the knee in 1990 while fighting with the Cambodian Army(in resistance to the Khmer Rouge) in the Kompong Spieu province of southern Cambodia. He doesn’t want to beg, he wants to work. Dara has a variety of skills, knowledge and talents. His family is one of only a few who know how to weave the traditional belts monks wear. Daras father, who was a monk for 24 years, taught him this skill and wove belts from 1930 until 1982, the time of his death. Dara continued to weave until 1984 when he was forced to stop because of the war.
With the recent help from a generous
sponsor donation through the Trailblazer Foundation, Dara is now able to weave again and pass this traditional skill on to others. Dara would like to employ other disabled individuals and be instrumental in helping them support their family with pride.
Cambodia does not offer many opportunities for individuals, especially those in unfortunate situations. There is not enough government assistance or an employment system in place for the disabled. Thank you.”
Maybe anyone considering fighting in a war should visit a country where war has been and then decide.
I don’t mean to get you down only to share a little of what we’re seeing/experiencing as we travel.
There have been many other fun things we’ve done while in Siem Reap from juggling in the park, playing soccer with kids, watching the fruit bats eat and chatter, many long walks and countless coconuts.
We may still go see Angkor Wat but will soon be on our bikes again, heading southeast toward Phnom Penn.
Peace,
-Simon
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It's 3:30, time to sing!
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Great photos, descriptive text, tell me more....love and peace