Welcome to the Kingdom

December 30, 2011

This was it. The travel adventure I’ve been waiting for, the required country run. My tourist visa was about to expire since I was only allowed 60 days in Thailand. If I didn’t leave the country, I would get fined daily and then eventually kicked out. But I don’t mind having to travel to another country. I miss some teaching days but I actually still get paid while I’m gone. My school has to support the visa run if they want to keep me as an employee. It’s just part of the system.

As a brief reminder, a visa run is the process of crossing the border of a country into another country in order to obtain a new visa. Once your visa has expired in the country in which you are visiting or working, you travel to another country, apply for a new visa at the nearest embassy, and pick up a new visa. This allows you to stay in the previous country for a longer duration. I needed a non-immigrant B visa in order to legally work in Thailand. And since my time was up in Thailand, I have to leave for another country to apply for my new visa. Before leaving, I asked my supervisor for the documents required for a visa application. She gave me a single piece of paper that had some Thai inscriptions, my name, and my major. It was supposedly a document that proved that I was an employee at the school. It appeared unofficial and unconventional but she convinced me that it was the right paperwork. So I assumed I didn’t need a working permit or anything more official. 

I am going to Cambodia! I’ve actually learned a lot about Cambodia’s history and culture during my studies. Since, I’ve always been interested to visit this recently devastated but progressing country. I strategically picked a weekend that is followed with a holiday, giving me a couple more days off of school and more days of traveling. Starting my trip the weekend before New Year’s would give me almost a week in Cambodia. My friend Bobby was going to keep me company on this trip. Though his school couldn’t provide him the correct visa documents in time, he needed to leave the country anyways since his current visa was about to expire. What a great opportunity to travel! So with my documents, passport, and this ‘official’ statement of my employment, we were ready for an adventure.

It’s 3 in the morning. I didn’t sleep at all since it hurts too much to wake up with such little sleep. My eyes were bloodshot and I felt almost whimsical and delirious without rest. But I was taking a long bus ride to Cambodia so I figured I would be able to gain some sleep then. Cambodia was far. It takes about five hours to get to border and another couple of hours to get to a somewhat populated city. We planned to visit Siem Reap for the first couple days of our trip. In Siem Reap, we can visit some of the ancient ruins in this old city and enjoy New Years in this tourist-centered town. Then, we planned to travel to Phnom Penh to explore the capital city and apply for my visa. But in order to actually get to some of these cities, it takes a long time and multiple modes of transportation. So in the complete dark of the early morning, we took a cab to the Northern Bus Terminal, Mo Chit, and the bus transported us to the Aranyaprathet/Poipet border city.

It was the longest, most uncomfortable bus ride. It was cold, loud, bumpy, crowded, and long. The overzealous driver would honk his horn sporadically throughout the early morning drive, disregarding the fact that it was five in the morning. The bus’s air conditioning was turned all the way up and each vent was locked in place so there wasn’t an option of blocking the cold air. Because it is very warm and humid in most Southeast Asian countries, I didn’t think to bring any warm clothes. So I felt it all—the sharp sting of the bitter cold blowing relentlessly on my bare uncovered skin. Don’t worry, I wasn’t fully naked. Additionally, the driver would stop the bus and pick up passengers along the way. Actually, I wouldn’t call it a stop but rather a dreadful composition of tentative taps and forceful slams on the brake. These passengers would stand up and squeeze their bodies in between my legs and the seat ahead in an attempt to make more room for those who were pressed into the bus like sardines. It wasn’t a smooth ride by all means.

Walking the Border. I was nervous. I’ve heard horror stories about how much trouble the Khmer or Cambodian border patrol gives foreigners. I’ve heard they will deny you access, led you in the wrong directions, try to trick you into buying a fake visa, or charge you a hefty fee for an on-arrival visa. Right when the bus dropped us off at the border, several men immediately jumped us, rattling off misleading comments like, “They won’t let you in”, “You don’t have the right paperwork”, or  “You need to buy a visa from us.” We ignored them. We were warned about these guys so we knew better. I felt pretty smug recognizing and rejecting their ploy. They target the foreigners, making them anxious enough to believe they might actually need an additional visa to cross. 

As we progressed towards the border, we entered a region of limbo. A region that wasn’t Thailand or Cambodia. Weird. Once crossing this zone, we needed to be screened for health concerns. It was a substandard medical screening that was literally a sheet of paper asking if you were sick or not. Just a check mark in the ‘no’ column ensured your crossing over the border. No real screening or evaluation. Next, we had to apply for our on-arrival visa for Cambodia. With a simple application, passport photo, passport, and a fee off 800 ฿, we were allowed into the country. Luckily, we didn’t seem to approach any problems at all. I felt relieved and excited that I made it through without a traumatic encounter. 

Welcome to the Kingdom. We crossed into the country officially. Cambodia. It is amazing that I get to see it in actuality. This underdeveloped but rapidly modernizing country is right at my fingertips and I was ready to explore as much as I can. Though, we weren’t quite to our destination yet. Siem Reap was a two hour cab ride away. It actually used to be about six hours before the roads were paved not long ago. After taking a free shuttle bus to a taxi station, we rode in the world’s hottest cab for two hours without air. Despite the heavy perspiration, it was fascinating observing small rural villages on stilts along semi-paved roads and pastoral fields stretching for miles. But it was hot. It might have been a good thing though. The blazing sun and the lack of air caused me to pass out (and maybe faint possibly), making the car ride seemingly short. 

Siam Reap. The tourist town of Siem Reap has been a prime location for temple hopping travelers. This city is located right next to some of the most wretchedly beautiful ancient ruins and temples of the Southeast Asian kingdom. With some French influence and traditional village setting, the small town is wonderful place to roam and explore, to shop for intricate gifts, and to observe cultural dance and attire.

 

Most Charming Guesthouse. Along a small pebbled street, we found a hostel called Bun Kao Guesthouse. It was the most delightful, small abode run by a Khmer family, completely full of smiles and friendly manner. For about $6, the room was pretty spectacular. It had a hot shower, a television set that was never used, air conditioning and a fan, and best of all, a crocodile farm as the view. Not necessarily the winning feature for me but it was fun to watch them scurry around and jump into their dirty pool of mildew. I mean, who has a crocodile farm as their view? Not too many people I presume. Also, that farm had a more dark intent since Cambodia is known for making an abundant supply of crocodile leather. 

My favorite part of the guesthouse was the hammocks though. I knew I was going to be cooped up in one of those—relaxing, enjoying the scenery, and reading my new ‘Sex Slaves’ book for hours on end. Yes, I am now learning about the sex industry of Asia. There is pretty profound information from this book. I’ve already learned so much. Bobby and I rented bikes from the guesthouse for the weekend and rode around town. This was probably the cheapest and best method of transportation in the town since it wasn’t big and there was way too much to see to be behind a dull and clouded taxi window.

 

Khmer food. Cambodia and Thailand have crossed tracks numerous times in the past. They have conquered the same land, their royals have shared the thrones of their opposite kingdoms, and they even share some of the same ancient architecture. So, the food isn’t much different. Thai and Khmer food seem very alike. Well, there are differences but the similarities between the cuisines are apparent. The curries, rice, and noodles are similar in taste and ingredients. Dessert and coffee are very popular in Cambodia. Just like Thailand, condensed milk and coconut milk is used frequently in their sweeter dishes. 

Khmer food doesn’t use as much spice and chili as Thailand. So I can’t get my spice fix here unfortunately. Banana leaves were used a lot as food presentation and to house some of the food. Vegetables like potatoes and cauliflower were used as ingredients in their curry and rice dishes. Because Cambodia used to be colonized by the French, you can see how the French has influenced their food. French bread is served with almost every breakfast meal and is served at every food stand. Some Khmer delicacies include crickets and tarantulas. I just got shivers down my spine. Spiders! Disgusting! There doesn’t seem to be as much street food as there is in Thailand. Although, I didn’t really cover much of Cambodia to really judge.

To clarify, Khmer is the proper way to use Cambodia as an adjective. So instead of saying Cambodian people, you would say Khmer people. It is as pronounced ‘kah- mai’ instead of ‘kah-mere’. The pronunciation of ‘kah-mere’ is just popular way Westerners say the word.

Language. I always tend to beat myself up if I don’t know a language well enough to communicate. So even in the first hour of being in the city, I was already trying to wrap my head around the language. I tried asking many native speakers about their language, whether they were waiters or vendors. I would relentlessly practice the only two phrases I learned: suosday (hello) and akun (thank you). Turns out, Americans tend to be very harsh with their tones. I tried learning from a man who told me that when I speak I need to be very soft with my tones and speech. Khmer isn’t as comprehensibly when you enunciate each syllable, oddly enough. That’s good enough for me. I’ll just get by with slurring my words a bit. Since I don’t know how to pronounce the words correctly anyhow, it might sound like I actually know the language. 

Old Market. Surrounded by temples, small rivers, and an abundance of tourist shops, the Old Market is a central location for visitors to get a small taste of Khmer lifestyle—spirituality, tourism, and traditional customs. This town is catered for tourists. Almost every vendor and every shop owner speaks English pretty proficiently. Signs and restaurants accommodate English speaking tourists and Western food-craving taste buds. Most of the town activities were shopping for tourist gifts or city tours and unwinding at restaurants or bars. Riding our bikes around the market was fun. The environment was actually quite beautiful. Though this is a tourist town, there are many locals that live, work, and go to school here. Special moments included watching kids play with their young siblings, men playing an odd form of hacky sack, and the relentless ‘Hey lady!’ you hear from ‘cat calling’ vendors trying to compel you buy their cheap but appealing products.

It's like hacky sack but with an odd looking shuttlecock

Happy Herbs Pizza. For my pot enthusiasts, you will love what I just encountered. A restaurant that sells edibles in the form of pizzas. Upon hearing that there was a pizza parlor that sold “herb” pizzas, I had to check it out. Though marijuana is illegal in Cambodia, there seems to be a very open marijuana culture here, at least in the tourist spots. The pizza parlor, Happy Herbs Pizza, is one of many restaurants that serve their food with the special ingredient of weed. I approached the restaurant, eager to discover the inner workings of a weed based restaurant. I don’t smoke or consume the product but I was completely fascinated by the concept. 

We went up to the restaurant and looked through their displayed menu. I scanned the many dishes looking for something that said herb or anything that indicated weed. But their menu seemed to be discreet in this manner. I started to wonder if this was the right restaurant or if I had mistaken the restaurant concept. A waiter approached me and asked if I was interested in ordering. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, I asked him if the pizzas had special herbs in them. He didn’t understand what I was trying to ask. I felt like I was doing something criminal; I was soliciting drugs from a shady drug dealer it seemed. I didn’t want to be too obvious about what I was asking in fear I would look foolish or get in trouble for mistakenly asking a normal restaurant for marijuana.

In a very cheesy and irregular tone, I started asking questions like, “When this pizza says herb pizza, what kind of herbs do you actually use?” “If I wanted a pizza with herbs, can I get it here?” “Are these pizzas really special in any way?” He still didn’t seem to understand my questions. But my assumptions were confirmed as a man eating at the restaurant overheard my conversation and put two big thumbs up, indicating that the pizzas were very special. I headed over to the stranger’s table and asked him more questions about his experience at the restaurant. The restaurant sells your basic pizza (vegetarian, the works, meats) but you can add a special something to it for an alternative experience. For a regular pizza, it costs $12 (a very normal price for restaurant pizzas in the States). For a pizza with weed baked in, it costs $12 as well. No price change for the added ingredient. There are also levels of how special your pizza can be made. You can request that your pizza be made “special”, “very special”, or “very, very special” based on how potent you would like the high to be. They even garnish the pizza with a sprinkle of weed. You can also pick up a large bag of weed for the same price, $12. I don’t know my weed lingo but it was definitely a fistful. 

I was so excited about this bizarre concept that I wanted to take a picture of the pizza making process. I approached some of the waiters and asked if I could take pictures of them topping off the pizzas. But I think since I wasn’t planning on eating at the restaurant, they weren’t too keen on the idea. I tried to convince them by telling them that I just wanted one picture and that it wouldn’t be of any of their faces. They still weren’t too into the idea. They responded by saying, “Not yet.” I assumed that it was a bad time for them so I ended up coming back to the restaurant two more times to try to take the picture. Each time, they said, “Not yet.” So I never got my picture. One other restaurant told me that if I ordered the pizza myself, I would be able to take a picture. But I wasn’t that desperate to take the picture. Though $12 doesn’t seem like a lot for pizza eaters in the States, over here it is a lot of money. I could be spending that same amount for a full day inclusive tour of the Angkor temples or four months of utility bills for my apartment.

We talked to the man, Luke, and his lady friend for a while. Turns out, they are both English teachers in an international school in India. They described their experiences traveling and teaching in several different countries in South Asia. It sounded amazing. I was becoming increasingly interested in international schools. After talking to a couple people, it seems like international schools have more structure and a higher standard for their kids. Students can pass or fail. Their academic future isn’t already written in stone. They have to actually put in effort for academic achievement. I do feel bad. I shouldn’t constantly rag on the Thai educational system. It’s just frustrating to see some of the kids’ potential and it being wasted away because of a silly unspoken rule. There are students that are truly motivated and do actually work hard in school. But there also is a significant amount that doesn’t care because they really don’t need to care; they will pass anyways. But in an international school, I feel like the learning environment would be more positive and encouraging.

Luke told us how he joined an international school fair that immediately picked him up and placed him in a wonderful school in Jakarta, Indonesia. He worked there for a year and loved it so much he wanted to try another international school in India. Even with the hectic and wild nature of India, he has enjoyed his experience and has decided to continue teaching for the last several years. After giving me some tips and showing us his large souvenir bag from the restaurant, we went on our way.

After a long journey across national borders, I am in Cambodia! Besides my nap in the back of the cab, I was wide-eyed and enthusiastic about my prospective adventure in Cambodia. As the sun fell, Bobby and I relaxed at a dessert café and tried some authentic Khmer dessert like coconut jellies and puddings. After choosing a tour for the following day, we hopped onto our bikes and headed to our quaint little guesthouse for a much needed good night’s rest.