The Wandering Nerd

The Wandering Nerd April 16th, 2008

As border crossings go, that could have been worse. It wasn’t so much that there was any actual hassle in getting across the border - really it was quite simple and the queues were short and moving quickly. The problem is actually finding the Cambodian border once you get dumped out of the bus. I like Thailand, probably my favorite country yet, but in eastern Thailand they are really not accustomed to tourists and don’t have ubiquitous kindly signs in English explaining important things like departure times and destinations. The percentage of passable English speakers is more in the single digits as opposed to the high 70s in the west. They are just as friendly and smiling, and genuinely seem interested in helping out the silly farang - possibly owing to feeling of guilt for having slapped him in the face with talcum powder the day before.

The bus drops us off at a large open air market and the bus stewardess - which is hard to get used to - waves us vaguely in a direction, the bus rumbles off and the rest of the passengers - all Thai - disperse into the crowds leaving us no choice but to head south and hope that we’ll hit the border at some point - hopefully before men with guns surround us and escort us to where we need to be. We walked through a parking lot, the market, a bank and the closest approximation to Atlantic City that you’ll find in this part of the world. The land between the official Thai border and the Cambodian border is, for all intents and purposes, a DMZ of Casinos. Just on the 500m stretch of road between the two countries there were almost a dozen massive shrines to the Lady and worshippers, poor at math, making pilgrimages. I’ve always found it odd that those who are most in need have a higher risk of being suckered into playing games of chance. You know me, I’m not much of a risk taker.

After making it through the queues, with a newly stamped passport, we’re released into the city of Poipet. After the pristine nature of Thailand, Cambodia comes as quite a shock. I have no better world to use for Poipet, and for the most part urbanized parts of Cambodia than ’squalor’.

The history of Cambodia sheds light though. The whole Khmer Rouge affair and horror that these people suffered - ever hear of a guy called Saloth Sar also known as Pol Pot - a name you just really don’t use over here. There are estimates of two million people having died under the regime, hundreds of thousands executed directly, more dying to malnutrition and diseases that existed in the work camps of the time. I’ll probably go into the history more when I get to Phnom Penh, cheery stuff. After the brutality of the past, a bit of rubbish can be expected, parts of it are starting to get better, especially in the downtown section here in Siam Reap. It really is a town in transition, you’ll see in the pics some of the strange juxtapositions, giant Duracell displays right next to Naga statues, giant communication towers bristling with cellular and microwave antennas, and just further up the river, a large net that keeps the rubbish from the shanty style shops from flowing down past the gentrified areas. There are massive complexes being erected just north of the city proper that have no inhabitants, it’s like walking through a pristine ghost town in direct contrast to the dust and honking motos just a few hundred meters behind you.

Having said that, the road from Poipet to Siam Reap more closely resembles a cheese grater than any sort of transit system. The ‘taxi’ system along that route is such a scam that it’s laughable. Two years ago the cost to take a taxi from there to here - about 3 hours - was 150 to 200 baht (3 to 5 USD). Now when you make it to the ‘taxi’ stand they want to hit you for 500 baht per person, and cram 4 farang and all their gear into a Toyota Camry. Hell, I can just barely fit into a Toyota myself. Tim and I broke down and splurged on the taxi, but bargained the guy down into taking just the two of us. So we got to lounge about in the spacious back seat, while sailing along the highway of speedbumps. ‘Sailing’ is perhaps the wrong term, more appropriate would be ‘bowel shaking’ or perhaps ‘violently convulsing.’ There’s a rumor that some largish airline that services Siam Reap is paying some major kickbacks to delay the construction of a better road. Ah, corruption the world over.

We had some static trying to find a place to stay in Siam Reap, finally landing at a rather posh place, deciding that anyplace just to drop our gear would be worthwhile for the night and then we’d check out other options. Well played if I do say myself. The place we finally found ‘The Dead Fish Guesthouse’ has freakin’ crocodiles in it! I’m not talking fake polyurethane-’hey Ma let’s get us a ‘gator to go with your pink flamingos and that mirror ball that uncle Pete-Bob bought you when Pa ran off with that tranny trucker from Texas!’-lawn crocodiles, but really real live, “I can see you and you look tastey, just put your hand a bit closer…” crocodiles! You can feed ‘em too! I keep hoping Tim will lean in a bit too far and go in with them. The owner - who is soooo gay that I’m hoping they actually did use asbestos in the construction of this place, otherwise the possibility of a fiery death is very real - says they have six in the pen. I’m calling him a big gay liar, we counted at least nine. I suspect he doesn’t really know and that they sometimes escape and wander through the guesthouse preying on the slow and weak. Okay, that last part is more of a hope than any sort of deductive logic. I did notice that they offer croc on the menu, I’m tempted to order the crocodile BBQ and then run back and count them really quickly. One of the little ones looks mighty tasty…

got my cares, wrapped up
all nice and neat in my suitcase
i’ll take it down the street
to a place with plenty of space for me
-the eels

• Cambodia