Showing posts with label cambodia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cambodia. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
it finally happened....
This was breaking news almost two weeks ago, which is kind of indicative of the speed at which news in my life moves, none the less it happened: I ATE DURIAN. It took, 3 separate visits, and a cumulative 9 and a half months spent in Asia but I finally bit the bullet. And you know what? It smells a whole hell of a lot worse than it tastes. I also am proud to report that I ate it in Kampot province which anyone who has spent a bit of time in Cambodia knows grows the best durian.
How did it happen? On a countryside tour of Kampot by bike and boat which I wend on with the majority of my group. We went along the river following the main (paved ) road, then on to lesser red dirt roads and finally veered off on to sandy little tracks where you would loose all control and come to an utter and complete stop. This of course would cause me to giggle like a small child and slowed our progress considerably. When we finally made it back to the packed red dirt road everyone was a bit dusty and the local guide decided that durian was what the situation needed. Not far up the way we found a khmer woman selling durian at a wooden stand on the side of the road. Next thing I know we had a small durian cracked open and I was putting a custard textured lump in my mouth. Honestly it tastes a bit like a banana custard mixed in with the smell of overripe tropical fruit. It was the kind of thing you eat and you aren't sure if you absolutely love it or hate it, not unlike that fish sauce dip that comes with spring rolls, or less exotically chococheese, or strangely for me: white chocolate. So yea man. Don't fear the durian, give it a go if you get the chance and if your name is Jon you best be eating some while you are in Asia next month.
Friday, November 27, 2009
guide: cambodia (p2 to start more to come)
CAMBODGE KAMPUCHEA CAMBODIA
If you have any sense at all you are going to fall in love with Cambodia. Like anywhere it does have its frustrating aspects (NO I DON'T WANT A TUK-TUK YOU JUST SAW ME STEP OUT OF ONE!) but speaking from a tourist's perspective (not of pcv or ex-pat) Cambodia offers up the goods. Boasting an enviable swath of coast line, jungles, ruins, haunting history and decaying colonial cities, Cambodia counters the resort lifestyle of Thailand and the chaos of Vietnam with a difficult to describe charm. Most people end up in Phnom Penh, so we'll start there and then move out.
PHNOM PENH ('p squared')
Upon first glance I wasn't quite sure what to make of Cambodia's capital city, I arrived at night, and night time arrivals are always a bit disorienting. In the light of day I found PP a mass of slowly deteriorating colonial buildings mixed in with the typical skeletons of concrete structures which were variously in some state of falling apart or being put up. It was familiar and yet distinct and though I found PP at first, tiring, dirty, and unappealing I soon found myself enamored with its charms.
I wrote a bit about PP when I first came to Cambodia on a mission to spend as much time consuming coffee and pumpkin soup with Michael as is possible to cram into a single month. I loved it then and I still love it now.
Most tourists end up down by the waterfront, which isn't an awful place to hang out. PP makes it incredibly affordable to live out your Indochine fantasies, you can spend the afternoon buying silk, eating exquisite food and follow it all up with a cocktail on the terrace of the FCC as the sunsets behind the red sandstone of the National Museum or a pretty nice view of the confluences of three rivers. There is quite a bit to see and do so we'll try and break it down....
things to see...
National Musuem: which might be very cool, I have never seen it and no one ever managed to convince me it was worth a trip inside. It is built in traditional Khmer architecture out of a really nice red sandstone. It is definitely worth taking a photo of, but I'm not making any promises regarding its contents.
Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda: so maybe this is going to make me seem like a bad Tour Leader but I never ventured with in the walls of the palace. Louise told me it was worth a visit, but somehow coffee always got in my way. Maybe that is a bad excuse, but I figured it couldn't be that different to the Royal Palace in Bangkok. You can correct me if I am wrong. Just remember to dress conservatively, no tank tops please!
S-21/Toul Sleng/Genocide Musuem: This place has a lot of different names and it is certainly worth taking some time to see. I find the idea of coming to Cambodia and not learning at least the basics of the history a bit lame. The museum makes all the stories, all the facts hauntingly real, you don't have to linger, but I think it is worth getting a guide and listening to what they have to say. I've been twice, and although even just sitting outside makes me feel a bit queasy, I encourage you to go. Afterward you can reward yourself with a cool beverage at the bhodi tree cafe right across the street.
Choeung Ek/Killing Fields: The Killing Fields were the last step for prisoners after leaving s-21. Guides hang out here and are happy to show you around the site, but it is well signed and I think wandering around here silently is usually more than enough. They have a constructed a large stupa to store the skulls of the victims, it is a raw look at a sad time in Khmer history.
If one were to take off in the morning at about 8, stopping first at s-21, then at the killing fields you could be back in town by about lunch time and visit Friends for lunch. Friend, the restaurant, supports Friends International the charity. After a sobering morning it can be nice to relax in a place which you know is giving back to the local people and has a profound effect on many young people's lives. Next door to the restaurant Friends runs a store which has been recently redone.
Continuing in that vein, places to shop...
There are a lot of markets in PP most people's favorite for touristy needs is the Russian Market (no they don't serve borscht). Though at its center it is your run of the mil market, the outer layers are choc-a-block with all the crap tourists love: ceramics, lacquer, t-shirts, knock-off rolexes, pirated dvd, gap clothes from the nearby factory, silk scarves, embroidered wallets. You HAVE to haggle or you will get robbed blind, be ready to walk away and compare prices. Central market is huge and it is more than possible you will get lost just trying to get into the market itself. The building itself has been under restoration for the last few years and the work is starting to show, its art deco architecture has been served well by a new coat of lemon yellow paint. Even if you just stop by to take a picture it is worth the trip. Nearby is the Sorya mall, the tallest building PP. Ride the escalators to the top to earn a nice view of the city. They also have incredible collections of pirated DVDs for sale.
Where to eat:
FCC (all the tuk tuk drivers know it) great for happy hours
Elsewhere and the rest of 278 (tell your tuk tuk driver to take you to golden gate guest house) my favorite street for bars
Garden Cafe (#4, St. 57, very near 278 next to smateria) has absolutely everything one might imagine wanting to eat.
Nature and Sea (on the rooftop in 278) awesome salads and smoothies.
Warung Bali (just up the road from the fcc, across from the National Museum) cheap great indonesiian food.
Friends (v. close to the National Museum) everything is good, omg.
Romdeng (street 178) classy Khmer food in a gorgeous colonial house (also part of Friends International).
The Shop (street 240) for a totally french and fabulous moment, don't miss their sister store, Chocolate (also on street 240).
Enough already! Enjoy.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Dave arrives.
Today has been grand. I started off with a round of goodbyes, a passion fruit, pineapple, banana and mango smoothie in a very windy Nature and Sea, a final purchase at Smateria, and then a jaunt in a tuk-tuk to the airport. Then it was time for my final goodbye to Cambodia, which was sad. Cambodia has become pretty homey to me. I get by with my terrible Khmer, I love the food, and I had a couple of really lovely friends here, so it was pretty sad to see the Khmer landscape fall below my airplane as we soared off towards Saigon.
I guess I moved on pretty quickly because there was a person, a very large important person waiting for me in Saigon. After rushing through immigration and an energetic wait at the baggage carousel I managed to do a very excited skiphopshuffle to THE DAVEMAN!!!! After months of imagining what two EDWARDARONs (Eva I know you know just how to pronounce that) would be like in Asia we finally had our answer: loud and entertaining. Food of course was necessary, Dave had already fallen in step with the coffee with sweet milk, there may have been some noodles, and some spring rolls, Dong was disseminated. It was exciting. Then Dave managed to throw his sunglasses to the floor as we tried to pass through security, which resulted in a comedic exchange where the sunglasses tried and failed to pass through the x-ray machine, only to be rescued by the force of a briefcase which managed to part the curtain of rubber strips, all the while Dave was faffing about trying to retrieve them, I may have snorted in laughter.
We managed to board the plane to Hanoi in great style, upon which we were served two types of compressed meats, pickles, tomatoes, salad and a very dense roll. I had a coffee, Dave did too. Upon landing in Hanoi we suited up in our respective hoodies/fleeces and braved the taxi circus only to be matched with a man with a penchant for finding the most ass-backwards way into Hanoi. Whilst driving along, Dave described Hanoi as, Poland meet Puerto Rico meet Hawaii meets England, something about the Soviet-like architecture, the incompleteness of most of the buildings, the palm and banana trees, and the rows of houses. Give the guy a break, he's jet-lagged.
With a bit of trouble we finally arrived at our $28 a night hotel and set off for dinner. David was incredibly impressed with the traffic in Hanoi, and the driving, and the general chaos. It is pretty crazy here and it was funny to have Dave weaving in and out of Vietnamese traffic with me. I steered him to Little Hanoi (which you may remember me mentioning in an early post) and we ate that eggplant and Dave almost lost it. I also introduced him to the wonders of morning glory with garlic. He may never recover. Then I dragged him to the other end of Hoang Kiem lake to sample Fanny's ice cream. It was a pretty full on evening. Now he is in the big bed making snuffling noises, I'm in the small bed typing away. Tomorrow we are off to see the Magical Halong Bay, should be a riot. I'll try to keep up, but somehow I sense that this should be an exciting next ten days.
I guess I moved on pretty quickly because there was a person, a very large important person waiting for me in Saigon. After rushing through immigration and an energetic wait at the baggage carousel I managed to do a very excited skiphopshuffle to THE DAVEMAN!!!! After months of imagining what two EDWARDARONs (Eva I know you know just how to pronounce that) would be like in Asia we finally had our answer: loud and entertaining. Food of course was necessary, Dave had already fallen in step with the coffee with sweet milk, there may have been some noodles, and some spring rolls, Dong was disseminated. It was exciting. Then Dave managed to throw his sunglasses to the floor as we tried to pass through security, which resulted in a comedic exchange where the sunglasses tried and failed to pass through the x-ray machine, only to be rescued by the force of a briefcase which managed to part the curtain of rubber strips, all the while Dave was faffing about trying to retrieve them, I may have snorted in laughter.
We managed to board the plane to Hanoi in great style, upon which we were served two types of compressed meats, pickles, tomatoes, salad and a very dense roll. I had a coffee, Dave did too. Upon landing in Hanoi we suited up in our respective hoodies/fleeces and braved the taxi circus only to be matched with a man with a penchant for finding the most ass-backwards way into Hanoi. Whilst driving along, Dave described Hanoi as, Poland meet Puerto Rico meet Hawaii meets England, something about the Soviet-like architecture, the incompleteness of most of the buildings, the palm and banana trees, and the rows of houses. Give the guy a break, he's jet-lagged.
With a bit of trouble we finally arrived at our $28 a night hotel and set off for dinner. David was incredibly impressed with the traffic in Hanoi, and the driving, and the general chaos. It is pretty crazy here and it was funny to have Dave weaving in and out of Vietnamese traffic with me. I steered him to Little Hanoi (which you may remember me mentioning in an early post) and we ate that eggplant and Dave almost lost it. I also introduced him to the wonders of morning glory with garlic. He may never recover. Then I dragged him to the other end of Hoang Kiem lake to sample Fanny's ice cream. It was a pretty full on evening. Now he is in the big bed making snuffling noises, I'm in the small bed typing away. Tomorrow we are off to see the Magical Halong Bay, should be a riot. I'll try to keep up, but somehow I sense that this should be an exciting next ten days.
Monday, November 16, 2009
pure magic.
Forgetting the hords of tourists, red plastic chairs, ridiculous chatter, and how tired I was, this photos just about conveys the experience of an elusive sunrise at Angkor Wat.I spend a bit of time thinking about how photos have almost over taken the actual travel experience. No photo can properly convey the dicomfort, humidity, heat, and annoyances of travel here. The smells and sounds are lost, the dust, torrential rains, and sweat fade as we reduce our travels down to a series of images. Yet we persist with our obsession of capturing our travels visually, we walk around seeing places through a view finder, more focused on our photos than on giving pause to exactly where we find ourselves. People tell me over and over that without their photos they might forget where they've been and what they've done. I can't imagine that one could ever forget the majesty of Angkor Wat, nor Tikal, nor the Pyramids. Even though countless photos have been taken of these monuments we still need proof that we have been there. Of course one photo of us posed awkwardly in front of these places will not do. We need hundreds of images, and these days I wonder what we even do with them. Thousands of unfocused images make their way onto facebook, we email some back and forth, but mostly they just sit, taking up hard drives.
I often pause in my frenzy to document the beauty of the places I travel and try to just absorb the moment. I notice the heat pressing down on me, my annoyance at the trivial things people manage to talk about in the presence of such beauty, how my eyes ache with tiredness, the empty rumble in my stomach, the itch of the mozzie bite on my ankle, and how the sky went from indigo to almost white with guazy peach clouds stretched across it's curve.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
how to give back (and not make things worse) while you travel
To assuage some of that first world guilt we all carry around a lot of people come on my tours and want to 'give back.' I think that this is a great, fantastic, and honorable intention, it just goes wrong so many times. Rather than attacking the tourists for not having a clue and constantly sticking their foot in 'it,' I figure I can write something about how to give back in a good way and maybe one or two of you fair readers will learn something and actually make a difference while you'' are out exploring our fair planet. All of this is based on my experience, and in no way am I claiming to be an 'expert.'
1. Stop giving things to beggars, especially kids.
Hey I know kids are cute, and when they have dirty snotty faces and ask you for food you really really really really want to give them something. It feels really cruel to stand there with your pringles and not give them anything but giving them chips/apples/ a bottle of water is a shitty thing to do. Why? If kids can get food by standing outside a gas station where they know tourist buses stop, they are going to do it. Why sit in school with a growling belly when dumb gringos are going to give you something to eat? One kid turns to three, three to five, and suddenly half the school is out begging and not going to school. If that person isn't a kid, why are they going go get a job if they can survive just fine on handouts? Aid, handouts, gifts, anything that is given with no impetus to improve oneself only hampers, it doesn't encourage development (look at what has happened to all the First Nations in Canada and the US).
2. Don't buy things from kids.
Kids are cute, are you really going to bargain with a 5 year old? Parents are smart, if their kid can make more money than them why are they going to send them to school? Kids who work on the streets are exposed to a lot more dangers as well. Child sex abuses are rampant through many areas of the developing world, when kids are working on the streets they are more exposed to these dangers.
3. Don't volunteer in a place which doesn't require a minimum commitment of time and a background check.
We wouldn't want our kids exposed to just anyone who walked in off the street and wanted to hang out with them, you shouldn't want other people's kids exposed to that either. You should want a place that you volunteer for to care about who has contact with them. Kids are also very sensitive to change, if you can't commit to make a positive difference by volunteering for a longer period of time figure out another way to give back (0ften a monetary donation is the best way to do this). I know that people love the idea of volunteering at orphanages, after-school programs, etc. But the main purpose of volunteering is to improve these kids' lives, not to take cool photos of you with kids, or to make you feel good, right?
4. Buy from fair trade vendors
It costs more because it is fair trade, make sense? If you are on a budget, buy one or two smaller items from a fair trade place. If you have a bit more to spend try and buy the majority of your gifts/souvenirs/etc from fair trade vendors, co-ops, or collectives.
5. Don't buy antique textiles, jewelry, artifacts, shells, coral, bones, etc.
Often times Maya and Hill Tribeswomen will sell their priceless textiles for a pittance to support their families. You take it home and ancient techniques as well as a small chunk of cultural heritage are lost. Unless you are a collector you really won't be that hurt by buying something new. As far as things from the natural world go, unless you really hate the environment you can understand that if everyone goes home with a black coral bracelet from Khao San soon there will be no coral left. Not so different from Ivory, animal skins, etc.
6. Eat somewhere that makes a difference
Asia is full of amazing projects which give back to the local community: Friends, Romdeng, Java (all inPhnom Penh), Starfish Bakery (Sihanoukville), Sala Bai and Chakmar (both inSiem Reap), Makphet (Vientiane), Tamanak Lao (Luang Prabang), Staff of Life (Danang), KOTO and Baguettes y Chocolate (Hanoi), Streets and Blue Dragon (Hoi An).
I'm told there is a similar project in Granada, Nicaragua, I'll have to check it out when I am back.
Full belly, satisfied soul, happy person.
7. Support smaller, locally/family run businesses.
The same reason it makes you feel good to go to your local book shop rather than Barnes and Nobles, staying at a small posada run by a family, or eating at a small cafe will stimulate the local economy and give you a family experience.
8. Give some money
Choose a project that puts a smile on your face, look at their financials and give them some of your hard earned dough. It'll probably a tax write off (not that I even know what that means).
9. Pay a bit more when you go to ride the Elephants
Projects which take better care of their animals usually cost more. Do you know how much it costs to feed an elephant? Plus you don't want to ride a sad elephant. Elephant Conservation Center and Elephant Nature Park (both just outside Chiang Mai) are great projects. Tiger Trails (Luang Prabang) also runs a much more humane operation.
Cool resources: stayanotherday, childsafe, friends international
Happy travels.
1. Stop giving things to beggars, especially kids.
Hey I know kids are cute, and when they have dirty snotty faces and ask you for food you really really really really want to give them something. It feels really cruel to stand there with your pringles and not give them anything but giving them chips/apples/ a bottle of water is a shitty thing to do. Why? If kids can get food by standing outside a gas station where they know tourist buses stop, they are going to do it. Why sit in school with a growling belly when dumb gringos are going to give you something to eat? One kid turns to three, three to five, and suddenly half the school is out begging and not going to school. If that person isn't a kid, why are they going go get a job if they can survive just fine on handouts? Aid, handouts, gifts, anything that is given with no impetus to improve oneself only hampers, it doesn't encourage development (look at what has happened to all the First Nations in Canada and the US).
2. Don't buy things from kids.
Kids are cute, are you really going to bargain with a 5 year old? Parents are smart, if their kid can make more money than them why are they going to send them to school? Kids who work on the streets are exposed to a lot more dangers as well. Child sex abuses are rampant through many areas of the developing world, when kids are working on the streets they are more exposed to these dangers.
3. Don't volunteer in a place which doesn't require a minimum commitment of time and a background check.
We wouldn't want our kids exposed to just anyone who walked in off the street and wanted to hang out with them, you shouldn't want other people's kids exposed to that either. You should want a place that you volunteer for to care about who has contact with them. Kids are also very sensitive to change, if you can't commit to make a positive difference by volunteering for a longer period of time figure out another way to give back (0ften a monetary donation is the best way to do this). I know that people love the idea of volunteering at orphanages, after-school programs, etc. But the main purpose of volunteering is to improve these kids' lives, not to take cool photos of you with kids, or to make you feel good, right?
4. Buy from fair trade vendors
It costs more because it is fair trade, make sense? If you are on a budget, buy one or two smaller items from a fair trade place. If you have a bit more to spend try and buy the majority of your gifts/souvenirs/etc from fair trade vendors, co-ops, or collectives.
5. Don't buy antique textiles, jewelry, artifacts, shells, coral, bones, etc.
Often times Maya and Hill Tribeswomen will sell their priceless textiles for a pittance to support their families. You take it home and ancient techniques as well as a small chunk of cultural heritage are lost. Unless you are a collector you really won't be that hurt by buying something new. As far as things from the natural world go, unless you really hate the environment you can understand that if everyone goes home with a black coral bracelet from Khao San soon there will be no coral left. Not so different from Ivory, animal skins, etc.
6. Eat somewhere that makes a difference
Asia is full of amazing projects which give back to the local community: Friends, Romdeng, Java (all inPhnom Penh), Starfish Bakery (Sihanoukville), Sala Bai and Chakmar (both inSiem Reap), Makphet (Vientiane), Tamanak Lao (Luang Prabang), Staff of Life (Danang), KOTO and Baguettes y Chocolate (Hanoi), Streets and Blue Dragon (Hoi An).
I'm told there is a similar project in Granada, Nicaragua, I'll have to check it out when I am back.
Full belly, satisfied soul, happy person.
7. Support smaller, locally/family run businesses.
The same reason it makes you feel good to go to your local book shop rather than Barnes and Nobles, staying at a small posada run by a family, or eating at a small cafe will stimulate the local economy and give you a family experience.
8. Give some money
Choose a project that puts a smile on your face, look at their financials and give them some of your hard earned dough. It'll probably a tax write off (not that I even know what that means).
9. Pay a bit more when you go to ride the Elephants
Projects which take better care of their animals usually cost more. Do you know how much it costs to feed an elephant? Plus you don't want to ride a sad elephant. Elephant Conservation Center and Elephant Nature Park (both just outside Chiang Mai) are great projects. Tiger Trails (Luang Prabang) also runs a much more humane operation.
Cool resources: stayanotherday, childsafe, friends international
Happy travels.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
sin titulo
Where to begin? I've been trying to work on a blog post the last while but nothing seems to stick. My friend B is traveling through Central America and I read his blog, which just drips with all that fresh travel enthusiasm, add to that his impressive writing skills and I have started to feel like a bit of a farce. On the other hand this blog moved on from being a serious attempt at a travel narrative a long time ago. So what is there to say?
Life has been pretty good lately. I took some time off at the beginning off the month and did a fast at a retreat center in Phuket. It had been quite a while since I had had a vacation from racing around so I was more than pleased to sit in my little villa, read, drink hot water, write in my journal and take about 4 naps a day.
I have also FINALLY found the most kick ass laundry do-ers in Bangkok, just a quick jaunt from the Royal and frenetic Khao San road. It is located on Banana alley, just by the Boots, before you get to Ranee's (mmmmm). Freshie clothes always put a smile on my face. Not only that I have found some lovely places to eat that serve salads which make me feel like I am back in California. SHOCKING! Cafe Corner is my favorite, to get there you follow the boots road over the bridge and take a right on SOI 2, when SOI 2 ends you take a left and it will be right there. Between this place and som tum as well as the juices at Ethos (on the street behind the burger king at the bottom of Khao San) I have been a happy girl. This has put Banglumpu (the general Khao San 'hood) and me on pretty good terms. Which means being in Bangkok feels less and less like a prison scentence and more and more like being in my (like it or not) neighborhood. Is that all it takes to make me happy? Jugo de remolacha (0 betabel para los gueys) and a good lavanderia? I have a feeling some people might be able to relate. My final new discovery was my new THAI salon where I got my haircut (nothing drastic!) which was nice, but the fantastic part was having two Thai ladies blow dry it at the same time. My fancy blow out looked awesome until the monsoon chaos which left most of Rambutri street under about 4 inches of standing water after about 30 minutes of rain and my hair back in its normally wild state. Quite impressive.
What else? I had a delicious snack of these swirly pork (??!!!???) crackers that Meesh and I were a bit obsessed with last September. This was on the way to Kratie where I caught sight of the very endangered Iriwaddy river dolphins. Pretty cool, not unlike seeing whale sharks, but on a sweet long tail boat. Kratie is pretty kick ass, meaning there isn't much to do once you've seen the dolphins, other than playing cards and drinking beer. The place is semi-infested with huge rats, so I find that sitting cross legged in your chair is probably a good practice.
From Kratie I dragged my group north to Laos, which surely deserves its own post. Photos should come as well.
Life has been pretty good lately. I took some time off at the beginning off the month and did a fast at a retreat center in Phuket. It had been quite a while since I had had a vacation from racing around so I was more than pleased to sit in my little villa, read, drink hot water, write in my journal and take about 4 naps a day.
I have also FINALLY found the most kick ass laundry do-ers in Bangkok, just a quick jaunt from the Royal and frenetic Khao San road. It is located on Banana alley, just by the Boots, before you get to Ranee's (mmmmm). Freshie clothes always put a smile on my face. Not only that I have found some lovely places to eat that serve salads which make me feel like I am back in California. SHOCKING! Cafe Corner is my favorite, to get there you follow the boots road over the bridge and take a right on SOI 2, when SOI 2 ends you take a left and it will be right there. Between this place and som tum as well as the juices at Ethos (on the street behind the burger king at the bottom of Khao San) I have been a happy girl. This has put Banglumpu (the general Khao San 'hood) and me on pretty good terms. Which means being in Bangkok feels less and less like a prison scentence and more and more like being in my (like it or not) neighborhood. Is that all it takes to make me happy? Jugo de remolacha (0 betabel para los gueys) and a good lavanderia? I have a feeling some people might be able to relate. My final new discovery was my new THAI salon where I got my haircut (nothing drastic!) which was nice, but the fantastic part was having two Thai ladies blow dry it at the same time. My fancy blow out looked awesome until the monsoon chaos which left most of Rambutri street under about 4 inches of standing water after about 30 minutes of rain and my hair back in its normally wild state. Quite impressive.
What else? I had a delicious snack of these swirly pork (??!!!???) crackers that Meesh and I were a bit obsessed with last September. This was on the way to Kratie where I caught sight of the very endangered Iriwaddy river dolphins. Pretty cool, not unlike seeing whale sharks, but on a sweet long tail boat. Kratie is pretty kick ass, meaning there isn't much to do once you've seen the dolphins, other than playing cards and drinking beer. The place is semi-infested with huge rats, so I find that sitting cross legged in your chair is probably a good practice.
From Kratie I dragged my group north to Laos, which surely deserves its own post. Photos should come as well.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Mith Samlanh (Friends)
Things strike me sometimes, they leave me with my breath caught halfway up my throat with their absolute inspiring beauty and make me want to scream for joy at the brilliance of humanity. Friend International makes me feel like that, staring into toddlers' faces, and a lot of other things. But Friends (and its associated projects: Makphet, Romdeng) and another project very similar to it in Hanoi, KOTO (know one teach one) give me a lot of HOPE. And inspire me in a big way.
Both take kids off the street and teach them highly sought after skills: how to cook, how to serve, how to speak English. In countries with fast growing tourist industries, these skills are priceless, they give these kids skills that are in demand and are taught a level of service one rarely encounters in Asia. And the energy in these restaurants pastes a big fat grin on my face. I was struck one morning, while having brunch in KOTO, by a strange tickiling energy that vibrated at the pit of my stomach, a feeling of being home, a feeling of wanting this, a feeling of knowing that maybe I had finally found a calling...
I have a little seed of an idea germinating in my heart right now, one that involves kids, pollo pibil, a restaurant and Guatemala. Sort of a Amigos Chapines if you will. Anyhow something like that will take some funding as well as some serious planning and commitment. It is an idea for a future Gemma who has settled down a bit. A girl can dream....
Both take kids off the street and teach them highly sought after skills: how to cook, how to serve, how to speak English. In countries with fast growing tourist industries, these skills are priceless, they give these kids skills that are in demand and are taught a level of service one rarely encounters in Asia. And the energy in these restaurants pastes a big fat grin on my face. I was struck one morning, while having brunch in KOTO, by a strange tickiling energy that vibrated at the pit of my stomach, a feeling of being home, a feeling of wanting this, a feeling of knowing that maybe I had finally found a calling...
I have a little seed of an idea germinating in my heart right now, one that involves kids, pollo pibil, a restaurant and Guatemala. Sort of a Amigos Chapines if you will. Anyhow something like that will take some funding as well as some serious planning and commitment. It is an idea for a future Gemma who has settled down a bit. A girl can dream....
Friday, June 19, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
On the other side of the glass
I am on the road between Saigon and Phnom Penh. My belly is full of Khmer noodle soup and my head full of thoughts that loop around into questions creating a mess not unlike the rice noodles that I've got swimming in my stomach.
I remember Michael telling me about these very buses which careened in front of her ,Cambodian home, kicking up dust. A blur of white faces protected by glass from the hot dusty existence of rural Cambodia as they raced between HCMC and Phnom Penh. This was back when I was still in C.A. I must have been in Guatemala at the time, because I remember telling her stories of seeing similar buses cramming themselves into the twisty streets of Solola, and it all caused me to think about what it means to have experienced a country and the insulated nature of tourism. My passengers are always talking about “doing” countries or even whole regions after spending a few days in them, “Oh yea, I did Laos, it was fantastic.” Maybe the very act of claiming to 'know' a place we admit to not knowing it at all. Or maybe we only know our very unique personal experience.
I can't claim to know every twist and bump of this highway, and yet I feel attached to this stretch of pavement, for I feel like it might lead me back to Micaheal, someone I miss very much. Or maybe I feel it leads me to a type of authenticity that I feel is so often lacking on the traveler's path. Regardless I find my eyes scanning each hamlet for that familiar ordering of mobile phone shops, market, soy bean juice ladies, and sugar can juice vendors which add up to Svay Chrum. I search to place the memories I have from those days that I spent with Mikee, suffering from the heat, from sleeping on tile floors, from being so far from the comforts of air con, of regular electricity, western food, and western comforts.
I remember our arrival back in Phnom Penh after just 5 days in Svay Chrum, the moment we walked into our $12 a night hotel room with air-con and private bathroom and thinking, money or wealth means you are able to afford comfort. You can insulate yourself from the pains and discomforts of poverty: from rocks in your rice and beans, from mosquitoes, from heat, from cold, from the sun, from physical labor. But the thing those uncomfortable 5 days also taught me was that in all our insulation we have lost contact with some of the things that make humans human. Westerners have a disposable outlook on life, something breaks, you buy a new one, something is lost, you can always replace it. Teeth, marriages, hips, ipods, rain coats. We are so wealthy that we have replaced food which is meant to provide calories with calorie free counterparts, we don't have to move to produce wealth so now we pay exorbitant funds to burn off all our material wealth which lays itself down in the form of a protective layer of adipose tissue, insulating us further and further from our environment. We have shaped parts of our environment so extremely that in places it is unrecognizable. And this is a spreading phenomena, driving into Saigon yesterday I awoke from a cat nap and was lost as to where I was. The suburban sprawl that covers the United States has reached its hand around the globe and has begun to sculpt parts of southern Vietnam. Do we want to live in a world where it is hard to discern between Michigan and Saigon? Is that the goal?
And this all leads me back to my initial thought about these air conditioned bubbles shuffling 'intrepid' travelers who have dared set out to such a wild untamed country.
Svay Chrum slides by as a smear of buildings, how can so many memories be linked to just another collection of same same corrugated tin buildings? Isn't that the strange thing about life? There is beauty, magic, and treasures beyond all belief, the trick is opening your eyes to see them as they are often hidden in strange places: in soy bean juice bought at a muddy market, in the laughing eyes of a vietnamese bus driver, in the unexpected views of the grenadine red sun rising over the gaggle of ducks as your scifo Vietnamese government train rolls past. And I am starting to believe the key to hapiness is being able to see these treasures, to be appreciate all the tiny minutiae that will eventually add up into a joyful existence.
I'm not sure this entry leads anywhere, but maybe that is a good thing, the nectar ,after all, is in the journey.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
last days
procrastination leads to blog entry.
summation of the last few weeks
thoughts.observations.notes.ideas.wishes
thoughts.observations.notes.ideas.wishes
thailand is brief, just enough time for a couple bottles of neon orange orange juice and green curry
the tips of my fingers have started to peel off, what does that mean?
buckets at angkor what? lead to a rough ride to P2 which noodle soup cures, I miss nana
get lost with my group in P2, tuk-tuks save the day and deliver us at Mee Goreng heaven
Ipod induced napping on the bus leads to strange lucid dreams
could Lebo be right about Deli pickels saving the world??? all this poverty in Cambodia is making me hope so
I wish I had brought my black gauchos and not my teal ones
I see a one armed mine victim filling in the potholes along an unpaved portion of cambodia's national road 4 and find myself wondering who is paying him for his work
cambodian children thrive on the beach front town of Sihanoukville selling braclets and when not successful swearing at tourists
Handwashing can be incredibly satisfying.
Crossing the border to Vietnam is striking - how can a bridge lead to such difference? I already miss counting in Khmer.
More ipod, more strange dreams.
I eat frog for the first time.
I get my laundry done in Saigon, everything comes back individually tagged
Night train delivers me to Nha Trang, why is train sleep so satisfying?
the tips of my fingers have started to peel off, what does that mean?
buckets at angkor what? lead to a rough ride to P2 which noodle soup cures, I miss nana
get lost with my group in P2, tuk-tuks save the day and deliver us at Mee Goreng heaven
Ipod induced napping on the bus leads to strange lucid dreams
could Lebo be right about Deli pickels saving the world??? all this poverty in Cambodia is making me hope so
I wish I had brought my black gauchos and not my teal ones
I see a one armed mine victim filling in the potholes along an unpaved portion of cambodia's national road 4 and find myself wondering who is paying him for his work
cambodian children thrive on the beach front town of Sihanoukville selling braclets and when not successful swearing at tourists
Handwashing can be incredibly satisfying.
Crossing the border to Vietnam is striking - how can a bridge lead to such difference? I already miss counting in Khmer.
More ipod, more strange dreams.
I eat frog for the first time.
I get my laundry done in Saigon, everything comes back individually tagged
Night train delivers me to Nha Trang, why is train sleep so satisfying?
confused yet? me too. but life is a beautiful mystery.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
back to kampuchea
I've made it to Cambodia.
After some deep breathing and wu-sah's I started my first SE Asia tour, I've got a really nice group of young brits, a renegade kiwi, a lovely italiana and, GRACIAS A DIOS, una mexicana y dos colombianas! Which means I've gotten to speak spanish and eat green curry, could this be heaven? Really what I am learning is that leading tourists is a skill that you pick up, and works anywhere, at this point I just have to learn the route, because the day to day stuff is about the same. Plus now I have a little dry erase board to write my groups notes on so I am like a serious professional these days.
Really life is pretty good, and I was musing to myself on the bus yesterday (ala Stealing Beauty) that happiness is a choice. It was a beautiful ride, Cambodia is so flat that in some places you can practically see the curve of the earth. It is dry season right now (though that didn't stop some scattered bursts of precipitation) and most of the rice paddies are turned red dirt, a couple men were out plowing, and there were skinny cows, "just like from pictures," as put by my italiana. The cows are great, but my heart lies with the water buffalo, whom I have a particular fondness for after almost running one down last fall on the way up north on the muddiest road EVER (right Nana?).
Love to all!
After some deep breathing and wu-sah's I started my first SE Asia tour, I've got a really nice group of young brits, a renegade kiwi, a lovely italiana and, GRACIAS A DIOS, una mexicana y dos colombianas! Which means I've gotten to speak spanish and eat green curry, could this be heaven? Really what I am learning is that leading tourists is a skill that you pick up, and works anywhere, at this point I just have to learn the route, because the day to day stuff is about the same. Plus now I have a little dry erase board to write my groups notes on so I am like a serious professional these days.
Really life is pretty good, and I was musing to myself on the bus yesterday (ala Stealing Beauty) that happiness is a choice. It was a beautiful ride, Cambodia is so flat that in some places you can practically see the curve of the earth. It is dry season right now (though that didn't stop some scattered bursts of precipitation) and most of the rice paddies are turned red dirt, a couple men were out plowing, and there were skinny cows, "just like from pictures," as put by my italiana. The cows are great, but my heart lies with the water buffalo, whom I have a particular fondness for after almost running one down last fall on the way up north on the muddiest road EVER (right Nana?).
Love to all!
Friday, October 24, 2008
svay chrum
Though these images can't capture the dust, the taste of soy bean juice, the sounds of pigs screaching before dinner, the long conversations with Michael as we waited for electricity, they do convey at least some fragments of my time in Svay Chrum. Thanks again to Michael and her lovely Cambodian family. Ah kun. 
rice paddies
rice paddies
along the road towards the wat
sunset at the bridge
rooftop laundry
first day of schoolThursday, September 25, 2008
elephants at the wat
I went to Angkor sometime last week. It was rainy to start, but the weather got with the program and kept things cool, but dry. Later in the afternoon the cloud cover broke up enough to afford me some nice looking light.I have been a bit apprehensive about writing about Angkor. I feel like it was one of those things I heard so much about, how impressive it is, how inspiring and amazing. But this is the thing, they had elephants. Ok so I know that is weird comment, elepants, but you have to keep in mind I hang out in Mundo Maya, there were no elephants there, no horses, no llamas, no beasts of burden to speak of, no wheels. Now I am not trying to compare Maya pyramids to Khmer temples, I just feel that the elephants explain why I feel a bit less bowled over by Angkor. They had elephants to carry those big rocks while the Maya carried them on their backs. But yes, they are beautiful and impressive works of ancient architecture, elephants or no.
The first day I took a tour with some friend's of Michael. We did the whole guide thing, with a tuk-tuk, complete with lunch at the expensive tourist restaurant. I dig on having a guide, as long as you can get a good one, they point out interesting things, give cultural context, and for me make big piles of rocks make a bit more sense. Another part of the guide thing is that they won't get you lost. My second day at Angkor I went back to do some sketching and painting, entonces I didn't have a guide. Though I had been there the day before I still managed to get lost over and over again. Obviously getting lost means getting to discover things on your own, it also means that you can miss some things entirely.
Images (from top to bottom)
Elephants on the road towards bayon. The exterior of Bayon as seen from the north. Takeo's eastern side. Flags within the temple on the top of Takeo. Alter in one of the entrances of Angkor Wat.
Monday, September 22, 2008
on the road in kampuchea
We're back in Siem Reap after a couple of bone jarring, gut wrenching days of travel. On the way up we found ourselves mired down in deep mud twice. The first time just outside a small village about two hours north of Siem Reap. M and I spent the 45 minute pause chatting with the locals, including the two in the photo. The second mud caused delay came just after the turn off from the main highway about 3k from the guest house we were headed towards. After a couple minutes of watching the wheels spin we abandoned the driver and our guide, opting instead to walk the kilometers on the muddy road towards the promise of a shower.
We had made the journey to check out the eco-lodge in Tmatboey of the NGO M has been volunteering for and to pick up another PCV who had been teaching English to the local guides. It was actually a very very cool place in the middle of no where. Though I would not suggest it to just anybody (I woke up the next day sore from the ride) but if you like birds and really getting off the beaten track it was a pretty epic adventure. We got mistakenly taken on a bird watching trip to see the endangered white shouldered ibis, which ended up being much more cool than I might have thought. You can check the place out, Sam Veasna Center.
Over night the rain fell fast and hard and we knew the next day the roads would probably be in a worse state. They were. An ankle deep creek from the day before had swelled to almost cover the doors of our Nissan truck. The driver ended up with water in his foot bed after we managed to cross the damn thing. Add to this, four of us were crammed across the back seat of the four door cab. Uncomfortable as it was, being jammed in was a bit better than the jostling around the two of us had suffered through the day prior. Luckily on the ride down the only thing that brought the car to a complete stop were the herds of cows that created grid lock on the one lane dirt road and we made it back to Siem Reap in time for a late lunch.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
solving those mysterious mysteries
One of my favorite parts of travel is interacting with different cultures and coming to know some of their subtleties. But some of those things feel unsolvable, or inappropriate to ask about, and then they become mysteries. One such thing was the inexplicably long nail that many Asian men sport. I never knew really how to broach the subject, I heard all sorts of bizarre rumors about its meaning and felt awkward in bringing it up. That is where having a cultural expert as one of your best friends comes in handy. Michael's 18 month tenure in Cambodia means that she is well versed is almost everything Khmer. Meaning she knew the answer to the mystery of the pinky nail.
So here comes the answer... ready??? you sure? No, it does not signify anything perverse or strange, but is actually a way of showing you aren't a manual laborer. This points out an interesting value in Khmer society, that people want to display the fact that they do not work with their hands. I find this fascinating because it plays into the larger story of how our bodies themselves can be read as cultural texts, many of our culture's values are conveyed through the way we care for and decorate our bodies.
Now if I could only figure out why they prefer pink toilet paper in Central America....
So here comes the answer... ready??? you sure? No, it does not signify anything perverse or strange, but is actually a way of showing you aren't a manual laborer. This points out an interesting value in Khmer society, that people want to display the fact that they do not work with their hands. I find this fascinating because it plays into the larger story of how our bodies themselves can be read as cultural texts, many of our culture's values are conveyed through the way we care for and decorate our bodies.
Now if I could only figure out why they prefer pink toilet paper in Central America....
sophisticated lady
The story that follows is being shared in the tradition of turning my embarrassing foibles into entertainment (poorly written entertainment maybe). If you have a weak stomach, or just don't like hearing about as we put it in spanish, vomitando, don't read on. Otherwise...
Though the road from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh is quite smooth, any bus ride can be destructive after enough vodka. The night before had started innocently enough, but somewhere between $1 drinks and the desire to dance things got a bit carried away. Never the less M and I were highly motivated to get ourselves to PP, and upon awaking at 8:30 we somehow felt that taking the 9:30 bus was a better option than waiting for the 12:30. I admire our enthusiasm, really I do, no matter that we missed the 9:30 and instead found ourselves booked for the 10:30. Finding ourselves with a bit of extra time we spent half an hour bumbling around procuring water, noodles, and bread for the bus ride, promptly throwing ourselves on to what we though was the bus at 10. Of course, this being Cambodia we weren't on the bus, we were on the shuttle to the bus, which meant changing buses in the rainy muddy mess that is the Siem Reap bus stop. Safely on board I had a stunningly terrible realization, I was hungover, and not in that, “Oh, my head hurts.,” sense. No, no, more in that, “Holy shit, I might die, but before that happens I am definitely going to toss my cookies,” sense. As much as I tried to talk myself out of it, Ｉhad a distinct feeling that vomiting at 60kph was in my near future.
Luckily I have experience with this type of thing, there was an incident some years back where I emptied my stomach into a pint glass to a chorus of shouts from my mom while sitting shotgun in one of my family's cars. Additionally I spent most of my childhood suffering from motion sickness (severe enough that I had never driven down Highway 1 until I was in my twenties). So when it comes to throwing up I can give you a 30 second window before it is going to actually happen. Which means that I had enough time to hide beneath my scarf, procure the plastic bag that contained the remnants of my coconut bread and vomit straight into it, all the while Michael took photos of the proceedings, after which a very adorable Khmer couple across the aisle took pity on me and passed motion sickness pills across. I thought it would be smooth sailing after all that, passed out for a while, only to be awoken by the panic of needing another plastic bag. At this point I had the previously filled bag precariously stuck inside a larger plastic bag, in my panic I somewhat missed the bag and managed to coat the back of the seat, Michael's calf, and a portion of the floor with regurgitated water before aiming the rest of the mess into the bag. Now we had to petition the couple across the aisle for another bag to bag the now leaking other bags in. Luckily it was only about ten minutes to the first rest stop where I was revived by a bowl of noodle soup and green tea. This meal is conveniently a fantastic cure to hangovers, restoring precious salts and fluids in one easy to digest bowl. Meaning that by the time we got back on the bus I was feeling rough, but generally okay to suffer through the next 5 hours of bus ride.
And no, I will not be sharing the photos, I draw the line there.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
toul sleng
I think that one of the toughest parts of travel is confronting the darker parts of a country. There is an impulse in travel to idealize, to skim off all the good parts, and not look at reality. The problem I find with that approach is that it ends up feeling empty, sanitized, and false. Though seeing poverty up close, people with diseases, people missing limbs, children begging for food, is not what we go on vacation for, it is also part of the places many of us choose to travel. How we interact and understand the people from the country in which we travel to says a lot about us as people and the places we come from.
Cambodia takes it beyond just dealing with our reactions to poverty, Cambodia asks us also to face a brutal history, a history many of us know little about.
I am not an expert in Khmer history, but through my previous travels in SE Asia I knew a bit about Pol Pot and the Khmer Rogue. But until my trip to the Tuol Sleng genocide musuem the atrocities that occurred in Cambodia during 1975 until 1979 felt like most history, distant, relegated to dusty gray photos, and having little to do with my present. Tuol Sleng is like a slap in the face, the history jumps out at you, dragging you through the interrogation rooms, sucking you into the eyes of the prisoners, and leaving you at the end reeling and wondering at it all.
Though the trip to the museum was not what I would call pleasant, it was the most worthwhile thing I have done since I have been here. It gives this country and these people context, something that makes me feel like I have actually experienced Cambodia rather than just, "doing" it.
one of the interrogation rooms, where prisoners were tortured
one of the larger interrogation rooms, numbers were painted on the wall marking spaces for individuals
the exterior of building "C" where the majority of the prisoners were kept in individual cells of brick or wood
brick cells constructed in the interior of building "C"
photos of some of the prisoners in building "B"
Cambodia takes it beyond just dealing with our reactions to poverty, Cambodia asks us also to face a brutal history, a history many of us know little about.
I am not an expert in Khmer history, but through my previous travels in SE Asia I knew a bit about Pol Pot and the Khmer Rogue. But until my trip to the Tuol Sleng genocide musuem the atrocities that occurred in Cambodia during 1975 until 1979 felt like most history, distant, relegated to dusty gray photos, and having little to do with my present. Tuol Sleng is like a slap in the face, the history jumps out at you, dragging you through the interrogation rooms, sucking you into the eyes of the prisoners, and leaving you at the end reeling and wondering at it all.
Though the trip to the museum was not what I would call pleasant, it was the most worthwhile thing I have done since I have been here. It gives this country and these people context, something that makes me feel like I have actually experienced Cambodia rather than just, "doing" it.
one of the interrogation rooms, where prisoners were tortured
one of the larger interrogation rooms, numbers were painted on the wall marking spaces for individuals
the exterior of building "C" where the majority of the prisoners were kept in individual cells of brick or wood
brick cells constructed in the interior of building "C"
photos of some of the prisoners in building "B"Monday, September 15, 2008
tot umbee kampuchea
view from the tuk-tuk leaving russian market
central market
outside the national palace
the girls of phnom penh
mikee with tea post pedicureSunday, September 14, 2008
i heart PP
Phnom Penh is like an ex-pat, do-gooder, NGO flavored, 'let's help these people,' explosion. Wow. Combine that with the remnants of French colonialism and you get kick ass pan au chocolate made by a street kid, who has been newly trained in the secrets of french gastronomy. After breakfast you can head out and buy yourself a wallet made out of brightly colored recycled mosquito netting. End the day having a drink at the FCC with the other ex-pats wearing their, "I voted for Obama in Cambodia" t-shirts which retail for a staggering $15. For that price, as I said to Mikee, those t-shirts better be made in the USA by well paid union workers.
Sarcasm set aside, I really do heart P squared. It has all the makings for a refreshing stint back in the city, wifi, cappuccinos, thai food, americans, western supermarkets, and rock bottom priced dvds. Michael and I headed back to P2 after two nights in Siem Reap. She had some official Peace Corps scavenger hunt planning to do, and I had to be there as moral support, or something like that. Mostly I ended up enjoying the gastronomic offerings of a ex-pat developed city and tried to not get in the way of official PCV business.
Inspired by all the delightful discoveries that Meesh shared with me, I thought I would pass along the tips. First off we stayed in Golden Gate Guest House on 278, along the same street are a number of delightful discoveries, the boom boom room where you can get your ipod loaded with the latest tunes, top banana (Mikee's favorite guest house), and a delicious Thai place (the name escapes me). Another feature of 278 is Maharaja, where all the PCV like to indulge in the gut bomb of Indian breakfast. Right around the corner is, semi-famous Garden Cafe in it's second incarnation, Garden Cafe 2. Besides GC2, is a very very cool recycled product boutique, Smateria. Their products are made from plastic bags, old mosquito nets, and tetra-pack. It was started by two Italianos, and now is a cute little place filled with friendly Khmer, happy to let you snoop around and decide if a wallet will fit your passport and five currencies.
If you are feeling like a traveler with especially full pockets, or just feeling the need to have a shwanky afternoon head over to the devastatingly cute and gastronomic blocks of 240. There you can stock up on killer baguettes and french cheese at VeGGy's, wander down the street for croissant and dragon fruit smoothies at the shop, where all the IT people feed, and buy chocolate for your Khmer sweet heart at Chocolate (the shop's chocolatiere off-shoot). The Shop is that kind of place that makes you feel cooler and more with it than normally your hairy legs and dirty sandaled feet would allow. My first time in there 3 french business men were 'doing ' breakfast in pale suits and crisp blue shirts, meaning I stuck out like a sore thumb, but they do a mean cappuccino, so who cares?
Another ex-pat hot spot is Java, which besides serving Illy coffee, also displays local art and organizes cool events, like Architecture and Urban Design month. Finally another cool food meets art place is Friends they have a little boutique and a restaurant near the National Musuem. I fell in love with their cookbook, From Spiders to Water Lilies. The restaurant is a sort of Jamie Oliver deal, teaching kids about the biz and arming them with a set of marketable skills.
Most of the things that the sell in the little shop are recycled items, in the same vein as Smateria. It has been very inspiring to witness so much positive grass roots community stuff that Phnom Penh has to offer. Almost every cafe you go into talks about how it uses local produce, fair trade coffee or helps disadvantaged youth. The cynic in me wonders how many of them are doing as well as their mission statements, carefully constructed in english, might imply, but the optimist in me hopes that it is an indication of the direction the world might be headed, that finally we might be learning from our mistakes.
Sarcasm set aside, I really do heart P squared. It has all the makings for a refreshing stint back in the city, wifi, cappuccinos, thai food, americans, western supermarkets, and rock bottom priced dvds. Michael and I headed back to P2 after two nights in Siem Reap. She had some official Peace Corps scavenger hunt planning to do, and I had to be there as moral support, or something like that. Mostly I ended up enjoying the gastronomic offerings of a ex-pat developed city and tried to not get in the way of official PCV business.
Inspired by all the delightful discoveries that Meesh shared with me, I thought I would pass along the tips. First off we stayed in Golden Gate Guest House on 278, along the same street are a number of delightful discoveries, the boom boom room where you can get your ipod loaded with the latest tunes, top banana (Mikee's favorite guest house), and a delicious Thai place (the name escapes me). Another feature of 278 is Maharaja, where all the PCV like to indulge in the gut bomb of Indian breakfast. Right around the corner is, semi-famous Garden Cafe in it's second incarnation, Garden Cafe 2. Besides GC2, is a very very cool recycled product boutique, Smateria. Their products are made from plastic bags, old mosquito nets, and tetra-pack. It was started by two Italianos, and now is a cute little place filled with friendly Khmer, happy to let you snoop around and decide if a wallet will fit your passport and five currencies.
If you are feeling like a traveler with especially full pockets, or just feeling the need to have a shwanky afternoon head over to the devastatingly cute and gastronomic blocks of 240. There you can stock up on killer baguettes and french cheese at VeGGy's, wander down the street for croissant and dragon fruit smoothies at the shop, where all the IT people feed, and buy chocolate for your Khmer sweet heart at Chocolate (the shop's chocolatiere off-shoot). The Shop is that kind of place that makes you feel cooler and more with it than normally your hairy legs and dirty sandaled feet would allow. My first time in there 3 french business men were 'doing ' breakfast in pale suits and crisp blue shirts, meaning I stuck out like a sore thumb, but they do a mean cappuccino, so who cares?
Another ex-pat hot spot is Java, which besides serving Illy coffee, also displays local art and organizes cool events, like Architecture and Urban Design month. Finally another cool food meets art place is Friends they have a little boutique and a restaurant near the National Musuem. I fell in love with their cookbook, From Spiders to Water Lilies. The restaurant is a sort of Jamie Oliver deal, teaching kids about the biz and arming them with a set of marketable skills.
Most of the things that the sell in the little shop are recycled items, in the same vein as Smateria. It has been very inspiring to witness so much positive grass roots community stuff that Phnom Penh has to offer. Almost every cafe you go into talks about how it uses local produce, fair trade coffee or helps disadvantaged youth. The cynic in me wonders how many of them are doing as well as their mission statements, carefully constructed in english, might imply, but the optimist in me hopes that it is an indication of the direction the world might be headed, that finally we might be learning from our mistakes.
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