Whistle Stop Tour of Cambodia and Laos... without a whistle...uhm, not an actual tour.... but lots of STOPS.

It lunged at me twice, if not thrice. I however, was too busy doing an impersonation of Michael Flaherty from Riverdance on 20 liters of Red Bull (to avoid being bitten you see) to notice exactly how many times it lunged.... (Apparently if you read the SE Asian Jungle Survival Book it says to do the Irish jig if encountered with a venomous snake poised to bite.... honestly.... really.... ok, no.). It was bright red with black bands... (The snake, not the Survival Book cover) which = VENOMOUS = DIE, DIE, DIE! By the way, Red Bull is originally from Thailand (for bus drivers to keep awake during long journeys...or perhaps for people in the sweatshops to not fall asleep on the job and be flogged to near death...), and it is something like 8 times stronger than what you get in the States or Europe! Go figure...
Anyhoo, enough of my near-death experience. I missed seeing any of the aforementioned large wild inhabitants of the jungle (bar some gibbons, macaques and samba deer), but I did see plenty of the ever-funny Thai tourists. AND as it seems, I also missed the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of seeing 300 scantily clad Buddhist monks!! You see, I was hanging out after the 5-hour hike and BAD snake encounter, and saw 15 songthaews (small taxi-buses) driving down the only road jam-packed with monks in their distinguishable orange robes. Half an hour later, the same 15 songthaews drive back, but no monks.... but bizarrely enough, all their robes were hanging off the handrails... hhhmmm....300 Buddhist monks running amok through the jungle semi-naked.... what can you say to THAT??! Another scenario I did not expect at all was when we (Danish girl I met at the Park, who I must add half-thwarted any attempts at wildlife watching as she trundled along behind me in a fluorescent orange poncho and mumbled into her Dictaphone frequently) emerged out of the jungle and grassland to see the wildlife watch tower we were headed for swarming with people and a fleet of cars and vans. It was a film crew!! Filming... well, I don't know exactly. We got mixed reports, but as it seemed, possibly: a gay flick, something about Gods, or even about some Burmese refugees and a plane crash.... Wait. I know! It was a plane full of gay Burmese refugees that crash-landed in the jungle. The refugees were then at the mercy of the Gods... gripping plot... I should be a screenwriter...

On my way out of the National Park I somehow was invited to stay in a Buddhist Wat (temple remember?) by Chat Chai (aka Toe) and his two mini-monks (pupils) Bua and Nui. It was one of those moments when I just find myself at some place having not really had any real choice in the matter! (and no, they did not tie me up and bundle me in a sack to get me there). I learnt a lot staying in that tiny wat. For example:
1. Mama = noodles
2. Tam = cave
3. Monks and cellphones are commonplace
4. Toe = big head, small body
5. Poe = toe!
6. Different stances of the Buddha...
7. Monks keep bits of bone of old renowned Buddhas in shrines...
He spent half the time on the cell phone to his girlfriend (I presume)! Meanwhile, I was tucking into the dinner that he and I had made: instant noodles and eggs! Five eggs (all for me)!! I woke up halfway through the night (maybe early morning) with incessant wind and heard some chanting emanating from some closed door. Or so I thought, as it actually turned out to be little Bua practicing his English numbers counting from 0 to 200!!! The previous night I had toiled to teach him some English and ended up trying to teach him Past, Present, and Future tenses!! What a challenge, considering he didn't even know what cat or dog or present, past and future meant!
That morning I left my newfound friends Toe, Bua and Nui and their Wat. The orange glow of the sunrise was behind me, as I walked off with my backpack, camera and a plastic bag with a watermelon, two mangos, and some dried rolled mango pieces!! I tried to refuse at first, but it was an offering of sorts so could not resist. I can tell you another thing I have learnt: it's hard to travel with an assortment of very large fruits! Within a couple of hours though I was on a rickety bus somewhere between Khao Yai and the border with Cambodia, listening to Spearhead (on my minidiscman, not the bus radio!), wind on my face, shoes drying off the rack and Buddhist monks sitting at my side. AH, I Love it! Oh wait... there was a passing whiff of pig shit...almost ruined the moment...
It's strange, but people in Thailand squat a lot... i.e. waiting for the bus, in the bus when no free seat, at street corners, in the market place, etc. Why? I asked myself. Well, they are in training for when they need to go to the toilet! You see, in Thailand they have what they call 'squat toilets' as opposed to the western-seated toilet. Me... did not quite master the art of squat toilets at the beginning, and proceeded to piss on my feet, while not quite hitting the 'right spot' from the other end, and in the process dropping the roll of toilet paper on the wet floor...DAMN those toilets. I have to say though; I am a very experienced squatter now. Trust me. No good for me now though. England lacks the squat toilet...
I managed to get across the border into Cambodia, only to be faced with signs of widespread poverty all around me; A shock from comparatively well-off Thailand. So it was no surprise to find that public transportation in Cambodia consists of pick-up trucks and motorcycles... And it is definitely public! Basically consists of pick-up trucks packing you in like livestock, hurtling over one meter deep potholes at break-neck speed (now I know why the call it 'break neck' speed!). No tarmac roads, just pothole dirt roads. At one point we were 23 adults and 9 children, 3 sacks with unidentifiable produce inside, and luggage of all size and shape (I had time to kill...lots of it... to be able to count). No truck bed space was left uncovered, which meant finding where to put your feet a tricky endeavour, as one is perched precariously on the edge of the pick-up. And my ass.... oh my ass. It was pummeled (felt the effects a week later). I had my legs uncomfortably spread out with an old woman in between sitting on my foot, a baby's head leaning on my right knee, my thigh tightly pinned to another old ladies leg, and a man who I swear was fondling my left testicle, taking advantage of this mobile game of Twister! Ok, it could be that he was wiggling his hand to get the circulation going (I sure was doing that with my feet...) and it happened that he felt my family jewels. ..Whichever. The point is he was feeling my scrotum. This brought to my attention the fact that I really needed a piss. Coupled with the huge potholes causing the truck to lurch up and down and side to side, the heat, the dust in your face, crying babies, the man fondling my testicle, another guy seemingly blowing kisses randomly.... like a nervous twitch (maybe the fact that he had a guy asleep with his face on his crotch caused him to be all loved up...) and numb lower extremities (wish my bladder had gone numb,..... wait, then I would have pissed myself..! .), I'd say that was a journey to remember!
Many hours later I reached Siem Riep, Cambodia. And Angkor Wat ruins, the former Khmer capital, seat of King Jayavarman II and VII (and one would guess, all those in between...). What a sight! It was mind-blowing. Both for the views it afforded but also due to the local contingency of craftsmen, food stall owners and roaming salesmen (or rather, salesgirls, salesboys and salesbabies...). "Hello sir, cold drink?" (in high pitched yelp from all directions) was the normal background noise during my three days at the ruins. "Where you from?" was also common. At the start I would respond with ... "well, from Spain and England"... but after the 1,589th time, I ended up being Polish or Moroccan.... from Kazakhstan.... that one threw them off, although they just associated me with Afghanistan! So started shouting Bin Laden!!! Not good...
I almost bought a cute baby for one dolla'... instead I bought ten bracelets off a little girl so she would stop following me around and uttering "Mista, buy bracelets" in a monotone for almost two miles... At one point I was sitting at a drink stall drinking (shock horror!) with my t-shirt off (very very hot). In the space of 20 minutes I had my hair brushed by a cute girl and her pink brush, my nipple flicked a couple of times by another, pronounced 'sexy' by an older lady, and was asked to buy postcards 34 times and some bamboo mouth organ thing 7 times. I declined on both counts and on the advance by the older lady.
Talk about drinking water in Cambodia.... excerpt from a water bottle label: "This odourless and crystal clear water is effectively disinfected by an ozonation system that forms no known products that could be harmful to human health"!!.... Odourless and crystal clear..... I should hope so! It's WATER!! "Disinfected'??! That would mean it was infected before.... with what??! It then goes on to say "It is ideal for replenishing body fluid loss and it mixes perfectly well with any food and beverage'!!! It's not a wine! And it replenishes ALL body fluids lost? Interesting.....
Now, being in a tourism-oriented place, it is hard to spend more than 10 minutes without bumping into a Korean or Japanese tour group. Angkor Wat was no exception. I got caught in a pedestrian traffic jam in the middle of a cramped and dark eerie temple.... Koreans. About 30 of them! They could not let me pass of course, as that would mean that the stragglers would break the orderly single file and possibly lose their friends and family forever in the quagmire which are the mysterious temples of Angkor..... for !*@^& sake. Thankfully I am not claustrophobic.
But Angkor Wat is a huge complex and at times I was completely alone, soaking in the amazing atmosphere. I'd be exploring the Bayon temple (with the large smiley type faces as seen on Tomb Raider), listening to moody African drumming music as the sun was rising. I was as happy as can be (and would have been even happier had Angelina Jolie been wiggling her hands near my crotch trying to get some circulation back into them....into her hands...).
From sunrise to sunset... Sitting at the top of Angkor Wat temple at dusk - a life-altering experience for some I would say. Apparently the Brits walking passed did not share this notion. Bits of conversation I overheard: 'Oh so the sun is going to set? IS this a good place? (Speaking to their guide) OK, who's going for the beer run this time?' There is no hope for them. None whatsoever. The point is (I am a man of points these days you see; just like Seurat, the well known French Impressionist painter that mastered the art of Pointillism), or rather the point they failed to comprehend, is that being at the top of Angkor Wat ruin proper is blatantly ONE OF THE BEST PLACES TO EXPERIENCE THE SUNSET IN THE WORLD!! And you don't need to be shitfaced to fully appreciate it. Or need to ask your guide whether it is a good place.
Talking about Brits.... did you know that Gary Glitter (70's cheesy English singer) is living in Phnom Penh, Cambodia? Yes, apparently he moved there following his conviction (and jail time) for child pornography! The Cambodian government has however found out about his conviction (which he conveniently forgot to mention to the authorities there on his arrival) and are in the middle of trying to deport him! HA!! Gary Glitter!!! Can you belieeeve it?!
Anyway, I am straying from the point. What was the point? None really! Sorry. Not really like Mr. Seurat and his pointillism movement. More like Dali and the abstract and random approach. So I'll plough on regardless. Gary Glitters of this world luckily do not affect the greater rural population of Cambodia. As a result, contemporary Cambodian people still live as their forefathers once did (and as depicted on the bas-reliefs at the ruins of Angkor Wat). You can still see women picking head lice out of another’s hair, wooden cart being pulled by oxen, thatched wooden houses on stilts (common people were not allowed to use tiles), and people still venerating the Buddha statues within the ruins. No apocalyptic wars against Siam armies and Khmers though thankfully. Once again, I felt honored to be there.
But I could not be there too long, as I was flying home soon. But instead of going the short way to Bangkok, I went via Laos (which if you look at a map, you will see is completely the WRONG direction!). A shame I could not spend more time there as Laos has some of the most striking karst/limestone mountain landscape I have ever seen. And wonderful people. For example, I met these monks on a bus to Vang Vieng. I discussed World Cup Football with them, as they had a complete photocopied list of all the games to be played. Argentina or Brasil are to be the winners, according to their hot tip...
I made it to Luang Prabang, a World Heritage Site due to the lazy French colonial-esque feel to the small town, with its multitude of Buddhist temples and true Lao population. Hill tribes abound in the surrounding mountains further north. But their culture may not persist much longer if Christianity has its wicked way.... back in Thailand, many hill tribe communities have turned their back on their cultural and spiritual beliefs due to their unfortunate conversion to Christianity. I saw the ubiquitous Moron (uhm, I mean Mormon…. Well, one in the same really) duo wreaking havoc in Chiang Mai for example. Sad. Very sad.

And so my last day in Laos was spent speeding up the Mekong River in a racey speedboat (fully equipped with Toyota 3 liter, 16 valve car engine in the back!) at 40 mph towards the border post with Thailand. I was bursting for a piss (I think I am becoming incontinent) an hour into the 8 hour journey (8 HOURS!!) in the cramped tiny speedboat, and so ended up having to piss into a water bottle... going at 40 mph down the Mekong with a crash helmet and visor on...(yes Rhi, it was as successful as pissing off the back of the pick up truck in Zimbabwe...). Of course, with all the bumps (and dirty visor) my aim was far from impeccable.... and as Murphy's Law would have it, we stopped for a break within ten minutes of doing the dirty deed!!! Aaarghh.... typical. Close to Chiang Klong and the border, I had this sudden urge to jump off the speedboat (still going at about 40 mph, yes) into the Mekong... don't know why, but I think I am going round the bend/knitting with only one needle/one sandwich short of a picnic/baked my cookies. Another example; I was on the bus afterwards and had an urge to buff this monks baldhead... bizarre! Didn’t actually go through with it thankfully.
And so I flew away and back to Europe just in time for a stag night/weekend in Gothenburg, Sweden! Involved rugby playing (with a shoe) at night in the streets of Gotheburg, lots of wonderfully gorgeous blondes (and brunettes), a theme park and strip club... no more on that! Oh, it reminds me...I happened to be in the thick of a traditional Khmer wedding photo session at Angkor Wat. There were some lovely bridesmaids in pink.... however, I was too busy being chatted up by what must have been the best man or one of the ushers! Just my luck. I hope the wedding I am about to go to does not provide such moments...
Now I am spending time with my English granny, helping her work out how to put on her hearing aids, finding misplaced spectacles, fixing umbrellas, watching shitty TV, listening to her rant on about the past to her 90 year-old neighbour Leslie over a cup of tea. "Does the meat man still come to your door?" was his reply..... surreal, mind-boggling and driving me nuts.
And looking for work. Again. Shit. Love.
Mr. David
PS. Did you know that there is a place in New York state called Purchase?! An actual town! Could that be the capital of capitalism... BUY!! BUY!! Oh dear...
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