Go It Alone

September 2, 2011

Although I was feeling a bit lost and alone in Cambodia, I actually did have a little bit of a plan worked up for my coming months. Before leaving for the trip, Lise and I had been considering volunteering opportunities in various countries. I had come across a program that gave opportunities to volunteers to work with Burmese refugees on the Thai-Burma border. Now that I was on my own, and feeling a little burnt out on traveling, I thought this could be a good opportunity. Also, I really only had enough money for a flight back to Seattle with only a little left over to live on, and this organization provides accommodation and at least some food. Therefore, I would be able to stay in the region for a few more months on the little money that I have. I had submitted my application to the organization a couple weeks prior to Lise leaving, and although they sounded like they would accept me, I was waiting for my references to respond to the volunteer coordinator.

In the meantime, I would need to get a visa for Thailand. I had gone to the embassy a few days before Lise left, but in order to get a two-month visa, I would need to provide my most recent bank statement with proof of “sufficient funds” for the duration of my visa and an onward flight ticket. I felt at least a little clever that I had had my mom send me a bank statement back in May, as they are good to have in this scenario. Unfortunately, it was not the most recent one, nor was it showing “sufficient funds”. I also did not have an onward flight ticket because if I would be volunteering with this organization, I would be there for longer than two months, so it would be pointless to buy a flight during the time specified. Also, I would not be able to honestly explain my circumstances because it is not legal to volunteer on a tourist visa. All these relatively new circumstances (things changed with the new government that was elected in the summer) that I was fairly surprised about. I had no way of getting a new bank statement, so before going to the embassy in the morning, I found an internet café with a scanner. I scanned my bank statement, took it into photo shop and changed all the dates and amount of money in the account. After printing it out, I had to figure something out for my flight situation. I figured I had three options: 1) buy a $90 flight to some nearby city such as Kuala Lumpur or Kolkata, 2) Use one of my previous flight tickets on a regional airline as a template and Photoshop it into one that looked like it was going from Bangkok to Kuala Lumpur, or 3) Write a letter explaining my desperate circumstances and asking for an exception to be made. I decided to go with the third. I explained how I was traveling all over Southeast Asia and that I was planning to travel overland from Thailand to Laos and on to China and had no need to use a plane to exit the country. This was not true of course, but it seemed believable enough. I also talked about how amazing Thailand is and I have been looking oh so forward to it for the last five years. I didn’t know if it would work, but if it didn’t, I would have to try one of the other two options.

I woke up early enough to get all this done, while still getting to the embassy with enough time to apply. The bonus of getting up that early was that I got to walk through the city as people were just starting to rise and the monks were going out to collect their alms. Every block or so, a couple of monks would be collecting food or money from residents or shop owners as prayers were said and blessings were bestowed upon the donor. After getting my paperwork done, I found a motodup to take me to the Thai embassy and I waited in line with my application form, passport, passport photocopies, 2 passport photos, fake bank statement and letter of excuse. There were a couple of West Africans in there, one from Cameroon, the other, I believe, from Nigeria. They didn’t look like they were in there to make friends, but I was extremely curious what they were doing in here, and what kind of visa they were getting for Thailand and why. When it was my turn, the official looked over my documents, gave me a couple passing glasses, asked for my $35 fee, and told me to come back on the 7^th (in five days!). I confirmed that all the paperwork looked good, and she told me it was fine. I knew I couldn’t celebrate yet, but at least this was the first hurdle.

Now I had five days to kill, and figured that if I was going to use it, I better leave immediately. I hustled back to the room, packed my bag and checked out. I caught a motodup to one of the many bus stations and asked about a bus leaving for Kep, a small beach town. Luckily there was one passing through there in just a few minutes. As I went to find my bus, I walked past a young blonde backpacker complaining to a cop or security officer that he had just had his bag stolen. He looked panicked because he was starting to realize he wouldn’t get it back.

I bought my ticket, hopped on my bus, and settled in for the ride. I felt lucky because all the people that had bought their ticket in advance were packed into the front of the bus. I, on the other hand, had the entire back third of the bus to myself, letting me stretch out and take two or three seats at a time. Unfortunately, though, I was a little too comfortable, and after a few hours, I had started to nod off. I was half asleep when we slowed down through a junction in a small town by a beach. We turned inland, and I wondered if we had passed through my destination already. I waited for us to turn back towards the sea, but it never happened. After about thirty minutes, I asked somebody if we had passed Kep, and yes indeed we had. I called to the driver to let me off. I jumped off, grabbed my bag from under the bus and started walking back the other direction. The normal reaction to having gone thirty km out of the way of your destination would usually be frustration, or even panic. I mean, we were on a battered rural road with cars passing through...occasionally. I ended up pretty content and excited though. The scenery was beautiful, I was surrounded by slow-paced village life. As I walked back south, I passed a few people who seemed a little surprised to see me. I greeted them and they would just smile back. I noticed the women were covering their heads, and not with kramas, the local style of scarf, but with hijabs, the head covering of Muslim women. Eventually I walked past a mosque, confirming that this was indeed a Muslim village. Some of the older men wore Muslim hats, beards and a couple even wore sarongs. It turned out to be a pretty interesting wrong turn.

As I walked, I would look out for any approaching vehicles. For the most part, the only vehicles were motorbikes with enormous bags sitting on the bag, quite often with a women perched on top of the incredible load. Eventually, though a car stopped for me and invited me in. He spoke a bit of English, and I was able to explain why I was there and where I wanted to go. He asked if I needed a place to stay in Kep. I waffled, because I didn’t know if he was trying to sell me a place or was just curious. Eventually he took out a laminated paper that was advertising a lodge. I told him I was looking for something cheap and he said they had $5 rooms. While this is entirely reasonable, I had been sharing rooms with Lise for the same price or less, so I was hoping to do better. He was going to the place right now, and it was actually outside of the main part of town a km. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a look, and this guy totally did just rescue me.

The place was not what I typically look for, as it was pandering a little too much to nature-oriented hippy travelers, but it was undeniably beautiful with a relaxed atmosphere. I already knew the scam at these places though. They give you reasonably priced accommodation, but since you are so far from town, you are almost forced to eat there, and they jack up the prices. The room was basically a hut with thatched roof and bamboo walls. It was sure to have plenty of roommates, most notably spiders. Best of all, there was a hammock in front and since we were up in the hill it had a great view all the way to the ocean. Yes, I had no more desire to go room shopping to maybe save a dollar.

And indeed I had roommates. Most notable was the big lumpy bullish frog that would emerge from under my door in the evenings. There were plenty of geckos, some mosquitoes, and the bathroom had a couple of big spiders that kept me from showering. I found myself incredibly relaxed in this place. I had little ambition beyond the hammock. Unfortunately, there was a pretty interesting town with a beach to see, so I would need to get out at least a little bit.

Before the Khmer Rouge took over the country, Kep used to be a popular place for French colonial types. After everyone fled, though, the town was basically abandoned. There are quite a few ragged shells of colonial homes around town. Some of them have started to be completely reclaimed by the surrounding foliage. Some might say how sad it is to have lost this piece of history or the homes themselves, but I thought it made the town atmospheric, and served as a grim reminder of the destruction and devastation that the Khmer Rouge unleashed on the country.

Nowadays, Kep has reemerged as a popular weekend destination for Cambodian families. I happened to be there on the weekend, and the beach was packed. The beach was by no means the most atmospheric or pretty that I have seen, but there was sand and there was ocean, which is the most important part. Families were coming in droves. Some rented little cabanas with hammocks for the day and had picnics. I have to say I was jealous of them. Food vendors walked up and down the road selling sandwiches, crabs, fish ball kebabs, fried chicken, and noodles. I had rented a bike for the day, and when I got to the beach, my first inclination was to go and do what most westerners would do. That means finding a sunny spot on the sand, laying out the towel, taking off as much clothing as is socially acceptable, and then getting your tan on. So I went and laid out a sarong, took my shirt off and laid down. I started to notice something that I should have anticipated. First of all, nobody was voluntarily sitting in the sun. All the Cambodians were sheltered in the shade of trees or their cabanas. I was obviously a bit of a spectacle because of this. Also, people here dress very conservatively, even when they go into the water. The women were fully clothed, and most of the men were also wearing shirts into the water, then putting them back on when they got out. I really realized how foolish I was being, though, when two teenage girls walked past me and took a photo of me with their cell phone. Maybe I should have felt flattered, but it wasn’t that kind of situation. I decided to go for a swim, and when I got out, I put my clothes back on and rested in the shade. I spent most of the day wandering around the beach or riding around the town. I went to the other side of town for a nice sunset dinner. There is a market and a strip of seafood restaurants. Kep is famous for its crab, but since I had recently slashed my budget due to uncertain circumstances in my future, I had to settle for whatever was cheapest on the menu. Probably some sort of fried noodles or soup. I also walked around the market a bit and found some black pepper. Kampot a town an hour away from Kep, is famous for is pepper. Before the Khmer Rouge, Kampot pepper was the most common pepper to be found in Paris’s finer eating establishments. It is still around and making a comeback, but does not have the fame and distribution as it once did. I bought a small bag and sure enough, it was delicious. I didn’t have a grinder or food to put it on, so I just tried a couple whole kernels. Yeah, that was potent. I later found that the hotel I was staying at had some gardens, including one growing pepper.

Other than all that, Kampot was pretty uneventful. But that’s exactly how I wanted it. It felt awkward to just sit in a hammock for more than half a day. I spent more time there than I had expected and part of me felt guilty. I would ask myself, shouldn’t you be trying harder to really get out there? Don’t you want to find something that will surprise or shock you? Well, yeah, I did, but it seemed like a while since I had really just sat around and done nothing. I love traveling and it’s great, but some people think it’s just an easy, relaxing time. Yeah, it’s no 9-5, but it’s not always a day at the beach either.