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Published: January 15th 2007
So, maybe there haven't been any encounters with planes or trains, but Automobiles and I are standing back to back on a long dusty road with our hands near our holsters, ready to duke it out just as soon as someone counts to 10. Just me and the Automobiles. I have had enough and I think a duel is the appropriate reaction to the severe punishment that Automobiles (namely automobiles of the bus persuasion) have put me through.
It all started a week ago when we hopped the more expensive and less convenient/comfortable/sensible public bus from Chiang Mai to Bangkok; a 12 hour period of my life that was truly sanctifying. I struggled in the days before our trip south because the public bus cost us 400 baht and a tuk tuk ride to the bus station compared to the VIP bus that would pick us up at the guest house for 350 baht. Sure, it's only about a dollar difference, but on principle, I was not happy with the situation. No AC, no movies, no english speakers, no clear drop off point. It was a long and painful night, I will tell you that (Automobiles: 1 point; Becky: 0).
We arrived in Bangkok sometime in the late afternoon after a fruitless trip to the Bangkok international airport via very pricey taxi from the bus terminal to the airport (Automobiles: 2 points; Becky: 0). From there we hopped another bus for an hour ride into Bangkok to Koa San Road where we could book another bus to Siem Reap, Cambodia. By the time we arrived in Koa San Road we had only enough time to find a place to sleep, grab some dinner and make one of the more foolish decisions of our adult life. We had read in the Lonely Planet South East Asia guide book that there is a very common bus scam from Bangkok to Siem Reap where they make the bus ride as painful and long and loud and hot and awful as they possibly can, dropping passengers off hours after the arrival time at a conveniently placed guest house so that said passengers would be too exhausted to find another place to stay and the bus company would make commission from the aforementioned guest house. Also, they will "help" you with your Cambodian visa so that you don't have to do it at the border, all while charging you an additional $20 that they keep for themselves.
Well, I don't think I have to tell you what Dallas and I did. We walked right into that scam. "It can't happen to us." Famous last words. We left the bus station two hours later than planned, waking at 6am to catch a bus that didn't leave Bangkok until 10am (Automobiles: 3; Becky: 0). We payed a hefty price for our visa and had a two hour stop over at some crap town in eastern Thailand where we were told that we couldn't leave the restaraunt to eat anywhere else and I watched a three year old step on and torment a puppy while I waited for my overpriced visa. We got to the border and it was smooth sailing until we stepped onto the worst bus in the history of buses in Poipet, Cambodia (which happens to also be the worst town in the history of towns). We sat and watched as the driver drove through every hole and dip in the long dirt road while driving as slow as he possibly could and pumping Cambodian pop on the stereo (Automobiles: 4; Becky: 0).
Just as planned, we were dropped off at a "very cheap" guest house owned by (gasp!) none other than the very man who was giving directions to the bus driver all along! What a surprise. Dallas and I were indeed too tired to look for another guest house, but that did not stop us from making it very clear that we "would not stay in your guest house if you invited us to stay for free!" Remember that part about the bus drive being very sanctifying? We finally made our way to the guest house in the old market area of Siem Reap and decided that rather than waking up bright and early to tour Angkor Wat, we would lay low the next day and recover from our travels.
Jump ahead to today. We did indeed spend time at Angkor Wat (which I will share about later) and we booked yet another bus last night for Sihanoukville...the coastal town in the south of Cambodia. After all that temple hopping, we were both seeing the sand and the sun as the next best stop. We woke at 5:45 am to meet the bus, leave the bus terminal at 7am (just as planned) and thus begins the third worst bus ride on our trip. We are taller than most asians we have met on our travels, but somehow we got stuck in the back of the bus where our long American legs were punished for another gruelling 12 hours. What was supposed to take 9 hours, not surprisingly, took 12. Along the way we stopped off a few times and I bought a tarantula...To Eat! Jeff the Canadian who we met on the bus, Dallas and I split a tarantula between the three of us. It was my sweet revenge (Becky: 1; Tarantula: 0). Not the worst thing I've ever eaten, but this proves that anything, no matter how hairy, tastes alright if it's fried and salted. After our moment with the eight legged snack, we hurried ahead and it wasn't long before our bus overheated and I was sitting on a tire on the side of a long Cambodian highway surrounded by big white cows. Today happened to be a white t-shirt day and it was not long before my shirt and forehead were covered in mysterious black specks. By the time we arrive at the coast I felt like a homeless man's wash cloth after his monthly bath, and then after he washed his homeless dog (Automobiles: 5; Becky: 0). To be honest, I'm finding it difficult to be excited about the beach right now. I just took a shower with a lizard and the lady had to clean the dirt off my bed with a towel (the towel I used to shower with mind you) when I got to my room. Not ideal.
Why do I start my blog with such a tale of torment and confusion? I guess all that is to say, we're not in Kansas anymore (If you'll allow me to use such an overused expression. I'm tired alright, it suits me.) Sincerely, Cambodia is so third world it is hard to decide whether to enjoy it, be repulsed by it, or just cry over it. We spent an amazing three days exploring the ruins of these enormous temples that are like nothing I've ever seen. At one temple I expect to see Indiana Jones sneak out from behind the root of a tree that has grown through the entire stone ceiling. At another I am actually surprised not to see David Bowie dancing and singing like the Labyrinth King that we all know and love. If I was eight years old again I would have thought that I had died and gone to heaven seeing these temples: so mysterious, so old, so rustic, and complex.
Not that they don't hold the same magic for me today, but it was difficult to look past the poverty stricken children begging for money all around the temples. It seriously does a number on you to see people suffering like this. I saw little girls Aubrey's age carrying around babies my nieces age, taking care of them and trying to sell post cards to tourists so that they can have enough money to send their older brothers and sisters to school or to put food on the table at night. How do you process all of that? I felt guilty day after day from telling the kids that I didn't want to buy postcards/water/flutes/pineapples from them. I really felt helpless. Even worse than the kids was to see grown men, who are missing limbs from the land mines that used to outnumber people in Cambodia and now still litter the countryside, ask you to buy books so that they can feed their children. That's hard to take. It puts my automobile and dirty guest house troubles into perspective for sure.
Before I left on this trip my friend sent me a mostly humorous email that said not to turn into one of those people who travel the world and than come back all holier than thou, thinking I know something that other people don't. I definitely don't want to be that person, but I have been thinking lately about how things are going to be when I get home. Obviously a thing like this changes the way a person sees the world. But I think it's hard to know how you've changed when you are still in the process. It will be exciting to see how the Lord has grown me and challenged me once I get home and jump back into "normal" life....whatever that will look like exactly.
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Eric D
non-member comment
uhhh...
i'm not sure what to say really, beck....at least you got revenge on tarantula-dom. your comments from the cambodians are humbling and sobering..God is growing you in ways that many of us will not be. we miss you here..school starts this week and its scary. happy trails - E