Monday, May 11, 2009

Holiday in Cambodia.

First, let me say that when I was robbed, it was not a violent or malicious act. Someone merely reappropriated my possessions for their own enjoyment - I now understand that, despite the crafty means employed, it more closely resembles an individual's attempt to correct the imbalance between the haves and have-nots with a little crafty handiwork. Of course, I'll miss my iPod (affectionately named Rolling Thunder), and my camera. But, especially the photos, and the reason is because my personal photos and videos fall nowhere within the spectrum of outlaw attempts at social justice.

Whatever the cause, my attempts to get money from the insurance company look really promising (It's totally sweet that I had foresight, for the first time in my life), despite the lack of any official documentation. It's actually a funny story that bears repeating. I was robbed during the bus trip south towards Ho Chi Minh City. I was robbed between Hoi An and Nha Trang (where we stopped for a one hour lay-over), but the man at the office in Nha Trang told me I didn't have enough time to file a complaint, and I couldn't place an international call except from the Post Office, closed for the Vietnamese National Foundation Holiday. Once I got into Ho Chi Minh City later that day, it was too late to do anything about it. But the next day, I tried to contact the police, and was told that because of the Holiday, the police were on vacation. A man on the street told me "It's the holiday. There is no crime now, so the police take vacations." ...No crime. Right.

Cambodia was quite the trip, though Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) had it's charms. For real. By the time we hit Saigon, we had accrued a large crew of people who all knew each other from travelling in the same direction down Vietnam. Though it's much more than 1,000 miles long, it's a pretty narrow place, and the one major highway leading south tends to put us back into contact over and over again with the same people. We had a few days of falling into and out of touch with each other, and somehow, always ending up at the same bar. Not a bad deal at all, really. I've now got a few Norwegian friends, something I've always aspired to, but never managed to realize until recently.

On to Cambodia, however. In some ways, it was the most depressing thing we could've attempted, short of a tour of the the European concentration camp circuit. Pol Pot is the name on the tip of everyone's tongue, and it can be read in the eyes of many of the older generation. Combine 1 part Killing Fields with 2 parts abject poverty, combine with a steady stream of alcohol and you'll add it all up into a bit of a soul crisis. Again, all I have to say about this is that ... for me, this trip wasn't about what I was looking at; whose corpse, what building, what food. It ended up being about finding mirrors in a place I've never been, and sneaking glimpses at the person I am deep down, that changes everytime I look. Like a shadow on the water, it's not the same image for more than a second.

But, I will say, of the physical places I've been to, the temples near Siam Reap, Cambodia ranks higher than the rest. It was simply breathtaking. At Angkor Wat (linked for your pleasure), we watched the sun rise, then went to all the lesser-known temples through the rest of the day, until we watched the sunset from the highest point of a temple built on a hill. A considerable feat for anyone, but especially so considering the fact that we drank 4 beers at lunch. Also, I totally traveled someplace I was WAY not supposed to go, in the most ruinous of the ruins. I saw a big sign that said "Absolutely No Entry" ... but right next to it was a window that didn't say anything at all. So, I jumped in, walked around in the restricted area for almost 15 minutes without seeing or hearing anyone else! There were bats and snakes and rats everywhere, some hallways were crumbled so badly, they were totally closed up. Real Indiana Jones shit, actually. If only I'd stolen some priceless artwork to sell to a European museum, I would've gotten the true Colonial explorer experience.

It's time that I accepted something about myself. I take bad vacations. I always get a funny illness, break my glasses, end up totally penniless, wake up half-naked in strange places, etc. I'm bad at vacations, but I suppose it all depends on your perspective. I'm shit at vacations, but I rule at adventures. I like that.

(Oh, and since my camera was stolen, that means hiatus on photos. Potentially a long hiatus.)

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