On the road to Battambang and Siem Reap

From Phnom Penh we went to Siem Reap, the town that serves tourists going to nearby Angkor Wat. But we didn't fly straight there.

We drove there through the Cambodian countryside.  We headed northwest from Phnom Penh along the west bank of the Mekong and Tonle Sap lake, stopping for an overnight at the provincial capital of Battambang.  We then crossed the Mekong and continued on into Siem Reap.

We found our driver through Google.  His web site listed many testimonials from previous clients.  I liked that he was a savvy Internet marketer, and his nickname, "Black Rambo", suggested he had a sense of humor.  A quick call and we arranged for a morning pick-up at a rate nearly half that for arranging a driver through the hotel.

He arrived early the next morning with a van and another guy to do the driving.  Rambo's role, as the English-speaker, was apparently to facilitate the trip and to act as our guide.

Battambang was less than 200 miles from Phnom Penh, but the narrow road used by tractor-driven carts and other slow-moving vehicles and the stretches where the road was heavily pot-holed limited our speed to around 30 mph.  We passed through rural areas dotted with simple one-room wooden shacks.  Cows and water buffalo grazed beside the road. Heavily laden trucks and motorcycles streamed in either direction.  A favorite means of transportation was a mini-tractor rigged to pull a long wooden cart.  Occasionally the view would open up and we'd see immense rice fields extending to the horizon.

local transportation

transporting a big drum with cymbals tied to the back

one of the hundreds of Cambodian People's Party signs that lined the roads

this group of cows was herded by a little boy

Family life was often out in the open.  Raggedy kids played and bathed in yards that bordered the road.  Adults gathered to socialize or lounge about.

Rambo told us that we were approaching a small town where we would have lunch.  I pulled out my phone to take advantage of its data plan to see if I could research dining options.  From the van I bounced electrons off of server farms located halfway around the world to read reviews of the handful of restaurants in the town ahead and even pulled up a pdf of the bi-lingual Khmer/English menu of the top-rated restaurant.  The immense gulf between the shacks without running water or electricity that we were driving past and the miraculous technology of the information age in the palm of my hand boggled my mind.

The Internet had its limits though.  The restaurant I sought had moved and we weren't able to locate it.  Instead we had a tasty lunch at a Chinese/Cambodian diner that Rambo knew about.  We learned more about Rambo Bona's background.  He is 27 years old with a four-year old daughter and a three week old son.  He belongs to an ethnic minority that inhabits the mountainous area in the far northeast of Cambodia.  His family was too poor to care for him so at the age of seven, with the help of the charity WorldVision, he was taken to Phnom Penh to live in an orphanage operated by an Australian charity where he learned some English.  When he left the orphanage at 18, he was given use of a tuk-tuk to earn a living.  One day, while he was napping in his tuk-tuk, he was awakened by an American who wanted a ride.  They talked, and the American, Mr Kiet (Keith?), from Washington DC, offered to help him.  They talked about Rambo's goals and how to run a business.  We weren't clear how much help Mr. Kiet provided, but after a few years, and with $5,000 in savings, Rambo was able to buy an old beat-up car, and start his business as a driver.  Mr. Kiet advised him to make sure he treated his customers well, and if so, his business would thrive.  Rambo now has the car and a decent van.  Mr. Kiet also paid for Rambo's wedding, the expense of which in Cambodia is the responsibility of the groom.

with Rambo Bona at lunch

Leaving the Chinese/Cambodian diner I noticed in the distance a large man, clearly a Westerner, heading toward us along an otherwise deserted dusty side street.  Curious about what he was doing there, I lingered, not getting into the van, until he reached me.  I greeted him with "I didn't expect to see you here."  "Why not?" he replied.   Ron is an Australian who frequently stays in the town to visit a nearby school that he supports.  He also sponsors the university education for the young woman who is the head of the school.  He suggested that we stop at the school and have a look, promising that we'd receive a warm welcome.

So we stopped at the Sustainable Cambodia school for a brief visit.  We met the head of the school and the English teacher who both spoke excellent English and the newly arrived volunteer teachers from Denmark and the U.S.  We visited the well stocked library that was funded by an Australian Rotary group.  The girls gave some of their colored pencils to the school kids, who ran about in their school uniforms.  Though it was a short visit, it gave us a glimpse of how well meaning people from Australia and other developed countries are making a difference.

the library

Cambodia often gives the impression that it is the subject of a giant experiment undertaken by the world's foundations and NGOs to see if they can rescue Cambodia and through their efforts raise its standard of living, healthcare, education, infrastructure, and overall quality of life.

Most of the functions that one would expect to be the responsibility of local government seem to be in the hands of the NGOs.  Throughout our trip, we passed one school after another, each one sponsored by a different group.  Hospitals were donated by well-meaning families.  NGOs ran restaurants staffed by street kids so that they could learn job skills.  Everywhere we turned there was another NGO supporting another project.

I wonder what the ruling Cambodia People's Party thinks of this.  I was surprised to learn that the leader of Cambodia for most of the past 25 years was a member of the Khmer Rouge.  He is Hun Sen, a former Khmer Rouge junior officer who fled to Vietnam to escape internal purges and who, after assisting the Vietnamese in overthrowing Pol Pot, was rewarded with a leadership position in the new Cambodian government.  Even though he lost the first open elections in the early 90s, he refused to step down and eventually entered into a power-sharing arrangement with the family of Prince Sihanouk.  He then consolidated his power and has been the sole prime minister since 1998.  While everyday life has been getting better for Cambodians they are still led by a ruthless ex-Khmer Rouge with an atrocious human rights record and a penchant for corruption.

I suppose the CPP doesn't mind turning over many government functions to the NGOs.  The NGOs are doing the hard work of actually delivering needed services, and helping to grow the economy.  The CPP stays in power, continues to make fortunes through corruption, and continues to sell off the natural resources of Cambodia to the highest bidder, often to Chinese companies.

Is this an example of the law of unintended consequences?  If the NGOs weren't in Cambodia, would the Cambodians have gotten so fed up with the lack of help from their government that they would have overthrown it and installed a more democratic and responsive one instead?  Are the NGOs helping keep the CPP in power?  A week in Cambodia doesn't give me any answer, and I wouldn't wish more misery on the Cambodians by depriving them of the help provided by the NGOs.  I expect that the presence of the NGOs is an enormous net positive, but I wonder, as do others.

We arrived at our hotel, Battambang Resort, just as it began to rain.  Battambang Resort is a few miles outside of Battambang in the middle of empty fields and farms.  It is only a few months old, started by a Dutch expat and his Cambodian wife.  He had met his wife during the several years he worked as an administrator at a school in Siem Reap, before growing tired of the hustle and bustle of that booming tourist town and deciding to run his own hotel in the countryside instead.

a cart full of monks putting up their umbrellas as the rain began to fall just as we reached Battambang Resort

After unwinding and unpacking, we headed into Battambang for dinner.  We chose the Gecko Cafe.  It is also a social enterprise.  It hires impoverished young women, pays them an above average wage, and teaches them job skills.  The menu had short bios of all of the cooks and waitresses.  Many are supporting extended families from their wages from the restaurant.  Our waitress was using her wages to attend the local Build Bright University.  The food was delicious and the restaurant has an open kitchen where you could watch your meals being made.  The staff even let Charlotte sprinkle the cheese on her pasta dish and carry it to the table.

on the balcony

in the kitchen

Battambang is known for its local circus troupe and for a bamboo railroad.  The circus was canceled due to the mourning period for King Sihanouk and the steady rain nixed the bamboo railroad.  So the next morning, with nothing much to see around the Battambang area, we decided to just push on to Siem Reap.

The drive to Siem Reap took us further into the countryside.  I kept entertained by looking at the great variety of heavily laden vehicles on the road and the scenes of local life that we could glimpse through the window.

We stopped briefly at a crossroads town to pick up some water.  It seemed a fairly sleepy town, though construction and demolition were going on near the store where we bought the water.

a little school van.  Steve Jobs would have been proud to see that Apple's logo is associated with education even in rural Cambodia, or he might have been unhappy about the trademark infringement

our actual driver, a patient, quiet guy - at least when we're around

one of the very popular mini-tractor driven carts

After a bit more driving we pulled into Siem Reap.  It shocked us with its billboards advertising golf resorts, countless big tour buses, and every variety of restaurant.  We were glad to reach our hotel, the stylish Heritage Suites, and take a break from the road.

Phnom Penh - Day 2

We spent much of the morning at a playground among local families with little kids.  We noticed the playground as we drove past in a tuk-tuk on our way to a historic district of Phnom Penh along the waterfront.  The girls had a fun time climbing on the equipment and acting out an adventure story. Vendors offered drinks and ice cream.  A little boy casually peed on the pathway and toddlers were only half-dressed.

This bicycle newspaper seller sold us a copy of the English language Phnom Penh Post while we were in a tuk-tuk

View from the rear of the tuk-tuk.  I can't get used to seeing little kids standing on motorbikes without helmets.

How busy are they?

Phnom Penh's main attractions

Our tuk-tuk driver with the unfortunate name "Porn"

At the playground

A bamboo naga (snake head) sculpture at the base of a hill that houses a famous temple. We saw it again at night spectacularly lit up

A nondescript and seemingly empty building at the center of the playground housed a neglected exhibit on Phnom Penh's past and future, watched over by a bored attendant.  A plaque mentioned a fact that I had forgotten - in 1975 the Khmer Rouge took control of Phnom Penh with its population of two million and "emptied it of its people".  So much tragedy and horror is hidden by that bland description.  I felt amazed by the resilience of the people and the city and by the path they both had travelled.  Another plaque stated that after the overthrow of the Khmer Rouge people returned to resettle and rebuild the abandoned ghost town.

We were curious to explore the old town on foot.  Walking toward the waterfront, we paused by a couple of vigorous volleyball games contested by shirtless middle-age men.  Alexa, who is a new member of the Bamboo Spikes volleyball team at Green School, took a special interest.   At lunch I tried a delicious Cambodian curry dish, Chicken Amok.  Then we all went to a nearby shop for delicious ice cream and pastries - thank you French colonial influence.

crumbling grand architecture in the historic district

The central market is another example of French influence - a grand yellow building with a 30-foot high central dome and arms branching out in all directions.  Lynn made use of her bargaining prowess to purchase clothes, shoes and handicrafts.  I bought a pair of Columbia sportswear shorts with an H&M tag, and went exploring the food and electronics section.

One of the odd things about Cambodia is how much American influence there is.  English is widely taught in school.  My (not well informed) impression is that more everyday people speak some English in Phnom Penh than in Bali, even those who aren't working directly with tourists.  US dollars circulate alongside Cambodian Rials.  They are interchangeable at 4000 rials to the dollar.  US Dollars are accepted everywhere.  When a vendor pulls out his wad of bills, the dollars are intermingled with the rials.  If you pay in dollars you are likely to have your change returned in dollars.  The exception is if you are owed some additional change that is less than a dollar.  That will be paid in rials.  So if you are owed $2.50, you'll likely receive 2 one dollar bills and 2,000 in rials.  I found it surprising that of the places that we've visited in SE Asia, the one that has historically been the most anti-American, the one that is the least developed, and the one who has a short history of welcoming Western tourists, is the one where US dollars circulate freely and where English is widely spoken.

A sight you won't see in the US - one security guard casually resting his hand on another guard's thigh

Did someone boost a truck loaded with Dr. Dre merchandise?  This was one of several stalls dominated by Dr. Dre headphones. The woman behind the counter spoke excellent English.  She said the headphones were quite popular with both foreigners and locals.

Young boys taking a break near a memorial to King Sihanouk

That evening we left our hotel in pouring rain to head to the grand Hotel Le Royal for drinks.  Raffles Hotels had bought and restored to its former glory this most elegant and grand hotel of pre-war Phnom Penh, one that had a storied past and that had hosted Jacqueline Onassis in 1967 and earlier Charlie Chaplin.  Because of the rain we made it ten feet from our hotel before being stuck for about half an hour in a massively gridlocked intersection with a cement truck adding to the congestion.  Eventually we made our way to open roads.

In the tuk-tuk, all four of us sat on a rear-facing bench looking out at the traffic behind us.  At a traffic light a family of four on a motorbike pulled up directly behind us - a father, a mother, and two young daughters.  They were drenched by the rain.  They stared silently at us and we stared back at them.  We each recognized that our families were mirror images of each other.  We were within a few feet of each other on the same rainy Phnom Penh street and yet it felt that we were worlds apart.

at the entrance to our hotel

in the Elephant Room at Hotel le Royal

Jackie Onassis and Prince Sihanouk and a wine glass with Jackie's lipstick still on it 

with the bell boy

While in Cambodia, Lynn and I both read River in Time by Jon Swain, one of the few journalists to witness the fall of Phnom Penh.  (It was recommended by Green School friends who worked for many years for the U.N. in Cambodia.)  Along with other journalists and expats, he lived in an apartment at the Hotel Le Royal.  The day of the fall, the hotel was being used as a neutral Red Cross hospital.  The Khmer Rouge refused to honor its neutrality and ordered everyone out.  Jon Swain was a colleague and close friend of Sydney Schanberg and Dith Pran, whose stories are told in The Killing Fields movie and who feature prominently in Swain's book.  Dith Pran saved Swain's life when the Khmer Rouge were about to execute him.  In the movie, Jon Swain was played by Julian Sands.  The ghosts of the past felt more real after we had visited some of the places mentioned in the book that had witnessed so many tragic and cruel events.