More Fear

Getting on the National Road 6 in Siem Reap via tuk-tuk was only slightly less scary than walking across the street in Phnom Penh.

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Fear

Crossing the street in Cambodia is one of the scariest things I've ever done.

This is why:

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In Transit

Yesterday was the first truly difficult travel day of the trip.

Nothing about it was extremely troubling, but nothing went exactly according to plan. Instead, it was filled with constant readjustments that were required due to cultural differences, third world realities, and lack of preparation on our part.

We made it out the door on time, and arrived to the chaos at the ferry port with plenty of time to spare. We were ambushed by porters who took our bags without permission and then we were stopped and aranged our tuk-tuk from the boat's landing station into town. It was only when he asked for money that I realized it was a scam.

I originally thought he worked for the boat company, as our tickets indicated that transport was included from the lake to the town of Siem Reap. When he tried to charge us money we walked away, annoyed. Unfortunately, despite the promise printed on our tickets, there did not appear to be any boat-related transport waiting for us at the port upon arrival. So we walked through the masses of tuk-tuk drivers hassling us and eventually convinced one to take us for free if we would give him additional work the next day. Upon arrival at our hotel, we saw the branded tuk-tuks of the hotel and realized transit was likely included with our stay, so we quickly dug into our pockets and paid him $5.

The boat was advertised as 5 hours. However, despite a 7:30 AM deparature, we did not arrive until at least 2:30 and we didn't check in to our hotel until 3 PM. On the boat, we were hassled by the porters who demanded payment for carrying our bags (despite our initial statements that we didn't want their help). I refused to pay, comfortable that my small bag had all of my valuable items -- I had had my fill of 3rd world money scamming at that point and was certain I could replace all of my clothes if my bag mysteriously disappeared. E2 and K were more generous than I was and paid the extortion fee. I should probably thank them as my bag arrived without harm as well. There was free water on the boat, so when they came around with sodas I forgot to ask how much (big 3rd world mistake). I enjoyed my coke but found myself being woken from a nap with a demand for 6,000 riels. Not an unreasonable price, just something I didn't expect since the water and bread had been *included* snacks and the soda was not (of course this distinction should have been obvious? right?)

The boat ride was long, but pleasant. Miles and miles of water and boats and fishing and river life unlike any I've ever seen. Between stints of gazing at the world speed by, I read IQ84 and found myself grinning. I don't know if I've ever read a Haruki Murakami book *except* when I've been on vacation. I love the otherworldliness of his writing, but it must be too hard for me to follow in my real life, as I completely associate his voice with the blessing of uninterrupted time and the parallel worlds of foreign cultures.

I'm actually here. In Cambodia. With friends. With access to the Internet everywhere we've gone. This modern world is the future -- I feel so lucky.

After the chaos of the ports and the boat, the dusty tuk-tuk ride bounced us over dirt and pot-hole filled roads through the country full of true Cambodian life. All types of construction on stilts to avoid the seasonal flooding. Lotus plantations.

For the first time in my life I saw a team of women laying roads. Beneath their conical hats they were wrapped from head to toe in fabric to shield their skin, eyes, mouths and noses while shoveling gravel and pouring tar in the 95F heat and ridiculous humidity. Sometimes, when I travel, I feel very close to my dad, knowing that he's with me in spirit. At that moment, as I stared in awe, I could feel him with me, watching these women manually doing the labor he used to manage with machines, shaking his head in amazement.

Finally, we arrived at our hotel and it is an oasis of calm and beauty. Good Job E2 on the selection. We ate a late lunch, relaxed by the pool, and once we were regrouped we went into town for our first experience of the frenzied collection of night markets, restaurants, stores, and tourists. I don't know if I've ever been anywhere with this many tourists. E2 claims there's only slightly less tourists than when she went to the Great Wall. It was overwhelmingly bright, loud, crowded, and bizarre.

And that was before the power went out.

Pitch black. A collective gasp from the crowds. I grabbed E2 and K's hands in case we needed to stay together. K, who's been traveling for 30+ days in Southeast Asia (and doesn't like to be touched) commented, "Oh, so we're holding hands now?" Perhaps my first instinct (that there may be a need to run together and/or keep in physical contact to avoid a stampede) was a bit strong. Apparently, the power goes out quite often here.

Upon our return to the hotel, the generator stopped and it went pitch black as well.

While reading last night, the power went out twice.

I'm an even bigger fan of my headlamp purchase than I thought!

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Phnom Penh

We started with my favorite thing to do in a new country: walking without purpose. All told, we did 5+ miles with a couple of leisurely stops ($7 mani-pedi and lunch) on the first day.

The independent monument. The riverfront. The traffic is a crazy combination of tuk-tuks, motos, cars, bikes, and more going in each and every direction. So, crossing the street is an act of courage (or
stupidity).

For dinner we met up with K and a friend-of-a-friend of her's, A. A is working on the international criminal tribunal persecuting the Khmer Rouge. He's been living in Phnom Penh for 7 months and was a great host, explaining all about the culture and taking us to Romdeng restaurant for a delicious Cambodian meal (the restaurant trains and employs former street kids) followed by the obligatory visit to the rooftop lounge at the Foreign Correspondence Club.

Additional highlights included the Royal Palace, the National Museum, the Genocide Museum, and several great meals of Khmer food (including fried tarantulas).





Overall, Phnom Penh is much less foreign, less difficult to manage, and more expensive than I thought. I very much enjoyed this visit.

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Cambodia: Day 1

Calm. That was my first impression of this country.

The masses with signs waiting for their friends and family were still. Easy. Smiling.

The taxi line was almost silent. A motion to beckon us forward and a second one to advance the next taxi in line. A gentle placement of our bags and firm but gentle closing of the trunk.

The chaos and confusion of an arrival in a foreign land was so diminished. In short, I loved it.

Our taxi driver spoke reasonable English (which is good because neither E2 nor I had a word of Khmer). Quietly, but helpfully, he suggested places to go. Close to the end of the ride, he reiterated that it was important that we visit a few of the sites because we needed to learn about the Kmer Rouge genocide.

It was a sobering moment.

He seemed so young and small and gentle. And, then, I realized, everyone I'd seen had been young: all the people waiting at the airport, all the people in the street (in fairness it was late at night). I had been told that the missing generation from the genocide would be apparent.

But, still, I wasn't prepared. I've never arrived for a vacation and had my first interactions with a local defined by atrocities in their recent history.

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Cambodia: Arrival

First, the tropical birds and their singing chorus. Then the geckos. Then the meep-meep-meep of tiny horns in small cars zipping down the road, and finally, the cacophony of high pitched barking dogs.

My first sunrise in Phnom Penh. 6:20 AM here. 3:20 PM at home.

The sounds of sunrise were much more impressive than the view, as all I could really do was watch the sky change colors against the outline of a partially constructed concrete and rebar building across the street.

I'm sitting on the balcony of our hotel in Phnom Penh with a mean case of jet lag. Despite traveling for approximately 24 hours straight between departing our house and arriving at the hotel, I was only able to sleep a totally of 4 or so hours last night (I'd guess).

Given how long the travel was, I expected to be more destroyed when we arrived, but I surprised myself by arriving in reasonably decent condition. I actually think I owe my 10 day Bikram challenge a little bit of credit as I found myself more in tune with how I was feeling than I typically do on flights. I stood up and did miniature versions of camel, side angle posture, bow-pulling pose, and forward bend on several occasion. Also, in addition to the large bottle of water I brought, I downed the small bottle they gave us and I took a glass of water every time liquid was offered. Bikram definitely put me in the habit of drinking more water than I ordinarily do.

12 hours on Korean Air from SFO to Seoul was a very pleasant international flight. Bibimbap for the first meal = delicious. The remainder of the meals were edible (which, sadly, these days, is a fairly good performance).

I took the time to bask in uninterrupted consumption of media for pleasure: 2 french films, 1 Italian film, 1 American film, 1 600 page Vogue, 1 Vanity fair, and half a national geographic. Talk about indulgence! This is another reason why I love to travel. My brain gets exposure to things outside its everyday experience -- I can actually feel myself thinking differently.

We had a very tight connection in Seoul, which was exciting. Incheon was overwhelmingly huge and more crowded than any airport I'd ever been to (or perhaps just the mad dash made it seem that way).

Then just 5.5 hours for a second Korean Air flight, some fitfull sleep spells, a quick e-visa clearance through immigration, handing the customs form to agents, and we were outside in the humid air.

We had the typical arrival confusion -- it looked like our hotel had closed for the night when we arrived. But, once we sorted that out, we were fine.

A quick dip in our plunge pool to rinse off, some wine, melatonin, and lights out.

Unfortunately, I woke around 4 AM with some seriously painful intestinal cramping. Immediately, I regretted forgetting to use bottled water on my toothbrush. While I was in quite a bit of pain, I was thankful to think back to struggling on the mat in Bikram -- I could tough this out, I could breathe and focus. This too would pass, I told myself (which was much easier to do once I realized that while it hurt as much as when I had kidney stones, it was located along my large intestinal path, and I didn't have any signs of a fever).

I went outside and did some yoga while staring at the stars, reminding myself to enjoy this moment, to accept it, and to breathe. Eventually, I went back to bed, and tossed and turned 'til sunrise, when thankfully, I discovered that the pain was gone.

Off to Phnom Penh adventures.

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Bikram 10-day Challenge: Day 12

Yeah, you read that right. I didn't make day 10. Or day 11. But I did make it today for the 10th Bikram Class in 12 days.

Not quite the goal I'd set for myself. And yet, I still feel great. Ten 90-minute bikram classes (aka torture sessions) in 12 days. Despite my chaotic life? That feels like success to me.

How'd I miss day 10? An argument with E that ran overtime. So un-yoga. And yet, so true. Life does stuff like arguments that cause you to lose track of time.

And then, day 11 had no space for a class. So I re-arranged day 12 (despite the fact that it was the last stateside day before a 10-day international vacation) to fit in the class.

And, I did the whole thing, today. Tired (exhausted due to lack of pre-travel sleep, if I'm honest), but committed to finishing out the full 10 days of focused practice before leaving for vacation. I managed to do a more pose-by-pose approach this time around which allowed me to do my best in most poses, although I did opt out after 5 seconds in the first Camel. Man, that pose just wrecks me...

Overall, the big picture lessons I can say I learned are:

1. A big goal is great. Even if you miss it by 10%, you still do more than you otherwise would have done without it.
2. Laundry demands from Bikram are insane. Seriously, I have no idea how anyone without a line for drying or a housekeeper deals with the dripping wet towels and costumes on a daily basis.
3. Starting is the hardest part. Almost every class I took during my challenge I was able to watch a newbie (the first class, it was me!). Since I'd so recently been one, I felt for them. Starting and getting through the first standing series was by far the hardest part for me and based on observations, it looks like that's generally true.

I suppose this is the point where I wax eloquent about feeling comfortable failing. I learned during this challenge, that apparently, the athlete's approach of "this is my goal training plan" but I'll call it success if I hit 85% or 90% is totally unknown in the business world.

How weird.

I think my favorite approach is shoot for the far away stars. Just don't forget to reward yourself if you merely establish something cool in your own solar system.

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