Cambodia     February 2000

January 29, 2000   Saturday Agoura Hills, CA

 

This journal begins with reflections of what has transpired to bring

me to this point - now, today "X minus two days.”

         

For many years, certainly more than ten, I've wanted to visit Cambodia, specifically Angkor Wat.  What has held me back was an ominous threat, a real and very likely one.  The Khymer Rouge was a very strong military force led by Pot Poi.  He was a xenophobic and ruthless leader.  Foreigners were frequently killed or injured with little provocation. My most recent hope to visit was about three years ago, when Marcy and I were in Bangkok, Thailand.  While there I could have headed off to Cambodia, except that the day before we flew to Bangkok I read a small article in the Los Angeles Times.  It mentioned that Pot Poi has offered the equivalent of twenty-five dollars for the head of any American . . .the head.

 

Travel Motto #7: There’s nothing civil about a civil insurrection.  Never visit a country during one.  Oppressive governments, as unjust as they are, keep order, and are therefore safe for the traveler.

 

Two years ago, Pot fell ill with cancer and the Khymer Rouge (according to Western newspapers) lost most of its support without his iron hand to guide it. Whether this was good is not a subject that I'll address because the political machinery of other countries is not an issue that I concern myself with when I don my travel garb.  I care little to whom I must pay my taxes. For me to comfortably survive, it must be without governmental pressures, or concerns about how fees and taxes I have paid may be used.  There are issues others must contend with.  It is for each country and each man to be able to decide their own path of self-determination.  So, philosophy aside, I have known for the past two years that I will set a foot in this mystical country.

 

My friend, Khalid Ibrahim, who I met several years ago on my way to Egypt, has been working for Northwest Airlines.  He arranged a "stand by" ticket for me to fly to Bangkok in Thailand for $235.00, round-trip.  Once I get there, I'll arrange for onward passage to Cambodia.  I am without a definitive flight schedule, so it would be difficult to follow a schedule for the final leg into Cambodia.

I have watched the Internet and read travel books and articles to find out where to go after Angkor Wat, but I have yet to decide.  I am reluctant to go at this time because Marcy, my loving and wonderful wife still has her foot in a cast and is wheelchair-bound. She insists that I go but I clearly hear her (inwardly) saying, "Don't leave me."  I'll miss her if I do go and, even at this moment I expect to leave (with 80% certainty) unless she has a problem with it.  She is my only consideration that poses any substantial obstacle to keep me from making this two-week journey - not even a long one – only fourteen days!  My present position: Marcy and I are still wonderfully in love - our honeymoon isn't over. She just got a substantial raise at her work (USI).  I've been doing well at Richards Insurance.  Mark will be able to handle The Agency well if he can focus as he has been.

         

Carol is going to have a baby shower shortly after my return here in Agoura Hills.  I've been making some good money on the side with stock market high tech investing.  The last couple of days have been very rocky, pulling a big chunk of profit out of my stock portfolio. My parents are in good health and have all their senses still.  Mom is going to be eighty in two months.  I hope I can do it too, that’s a good age to reach. 

 

Mark, Angie, and my wonderful grandson Trevor are doing very well.  I enjoy being with them.  They are deep in my heart.  Sarah is studying to be a nurse's aide and she's in good spirits and I really have been proud of her turnaround for the last two months.  Maybe because I kept telling her to "get a job" (to build her low self-esteem) she has struggled successfully to be the “contrarian” and do well in her classes.  Sue and Steve are going to San Antonio to see Jessica who's also pregnant.  They are very excited to become grandparents.

 

 

The Trip Begins

January 31, 2000 Monday     Los Angeles, California

 

I'm up at 3:00 a.m., excited, ready to start this adventure.  Marcy woke a few minutes later.  Her perspective is quite different, she'll miss me, just as I know I will, it just hasn’t hit me yet.  At 5:30a.m without breakfast, we leave the house in Agoura and head to the Van Nuys Airport.  As a condition of flying "stand-by" I've donned a tie and jacket, not my usual jungle gear. 

 

At the Van Nuys Airport I catch a bus $3.50 for one-way transportation to LAX on a city "flyaway" bus.  Marcy and I kiss goodbye and she goes to work at USI (formerly Triwest).  I tip the porter two dollars to carry my bag to the right bus. 

 

I packed my backpack in a duffle bag to prevent baggage handlers from poking through it. Light rain continued to fall as it had this weekend.  I got off the bus at LAX.  Forty minutes later I get off the bus at the Northwest International Terminal.  The ticket agent, a young Chinese woman named Jae, wore a bright red jacket, the uniform of a Northwest employee.  I was advised that the backpack exceeded carry-on size although I tried it and it fit (if I jammed it in).  She explained that while this leg of the journey looks good, the flight to Bangkok from the first stop in Tokyo is tight and I should anticipate being "bumped.”  If that would happen then I know I'd feel uncomfortable about "saving money.” I'm ready to board with a flight ticket at 8:00 a.m. although the flight doesn't leave till 11:00 a.m.

 

The terminal had a currency exchange office that was not open.  I saw the exchange rate posted for Thailand Baht .0292 to sell. So how does that translate when newspaper exchange rates published showed about thirty Baht to the dollar? Does this mean one U.S. dollar will get me 29.2 Baht?  I'll wait till I'm there to do the math.

 

One U.S. Dollar Equals

37 Thai Baht

3600 Cambodian Rials

104  Japanese Yen

 

I looked in a travel brochure that offered a journey following a similar plan to mine. It would cost $2,795 (base) plus $320 more because I only would have booked a single fare. Added to the basic price is $375 for the international flight to Cambodia from Bangkok.  The total is $3,490 and it doesn’t include Phnom Penh.  There have been several border clashes, which may be dangerous, and Ed Hasbrouck, a travel agent I prefer, said it is very dangerous, and suggests that I omit it from the plan.  I want to see both cities in Cambodia if possible.  I would like to surprise Marcy by coming home early.  I boarded the plane and it left right on time.  The seats were narrow and the plane was crowded.

 

The first leg of this flight was seven thousand miles and took more than full twelve hours. I had tried to not sleep before the flight, so I’d be really tired while I’m in the air and sleep while on the plane. I could watch a caricature of the plane projected on a map.  The screen indicated where the plane was, our altitude and our air speed, usually between six and eight hundred miles per hour.  Fried rice was the welcomed breakfast.  I could have had an omelet or soup instead.   Dinner was chicken and rice. Both meals were fairly good, but nothing I'd get at a restaurant. 

 

 

February 2, 2000      Sunday      Tokyo, Japan

 

Bad News: I was called to exit the airplane.   I was bumped from the flight to Bangkok.   I had to wait thirty minutes for my luggage to be removed from the flight.  It was time to make a new plan.  I hadn't been to Tokyo before so that's my new plan; get around the town and see part of this city.  It seems much bigger than L.A.

 

Travel motto #23: Never pack more than you can run with

 

The cleanliness and order that are the marks of Japan were evident throughout the airport.  I used a cart to move my one piece of luggage to the adjacent subway station.   Fortunately, when I packed my backpack, I remembered to pack light.

 

The Narita subway station was gigantic.  I wandered around, trying to follow the signs to get to the street level.  I went from one end to the other, three long blocks, all of which was underground.  Boutiques, restaurants, and small shops filled both sides of the sub terra street.

         

The only thing I didn’t see was anything that resembled a hotel.  I had read about “sleeping tubes” before landing in Tokyo, but I saw none.   

 

I had two experiences where people went out of their way to help me find a hotel in the city.  As I explored this subterranean village, I stopped at a police station on the second level.  The Japanese police officer brought out one young mystified uniformed policeman.  He faced me and interpreted my request for the sergeant.

 

I bought a ticket for twenty-seven hundred yen (about twenty-five dollars) to travel one-way to downtown Tokyo.  The Narita Express train only stopped at the other air terminal, and downtown, which is where I got off, about forty minutes later.  I was at the fourth level below the street.

 

Current Exchange Rate of Yen to Dollars

One hundred, four-yen = one U.S. dollar

 

 

I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer - no bath, no brushing my teeth or anything like that. I fell asleep in a minute.  I awoke at 3:00 a.m., showered, shaved and all that before sleep crept over me once again, but this time for a much shorter spell.  I rose at 5:30 a.m., got dressed and ran to the elevator to join a city tour.  I paid the three thousand, three hundred yen, about thirty dollars.  The official exchange rate shown was 107 to one dollar.  The tour was finished with a bus ride back to the hotel.  This was the worst tour ever.  Two times we were off the bus, once for a gift shop, and then again for the Emperor's palace and grounds.  The only place I had any desire to go back to was Ginza, which is a shopping and entertainment center near the Tokyo terminal, which is where I have to catch the Narita Express to return to the airport tomorrow.

 

Last night I didn't mention how helpful the police were at the subway station.  I asked if someone spoke English, then they started to come together to help me find a cheap hotel nearby.  They explained that there were no cheap ones in the neighborhood but there were several a short distance away.  A local hotel, I was told, would cost $200 for a single.  They pooled their knowledge of local places and called several for me.  Finally one had a vacancy, but it was thirty minutes away by street bus.  It was, they said, easy to find.  One officer walked me to the bus terminal where I boarded the bus. The policeman gave the bus driver specific instructions. 

 

The bitter cold of a Tokyo night was quickly pushing out the warm air of the afternoon. I put a jacket over the sports jacket I was still wearing, and was still chilled.  No snow, but it was cold enough.  I felt that these guys cared about what happens to a visitor to their city.

 

Having visited Kyoto a couple years back with Marcy I could easily recall their peculiarities, like how clean EVERYTHING was.  In the morning I'd see why that was so.  A crew of cleaners emerged from every building and every street corner to begin their daily tasks.  Ceaseless!

 

 Nothing is cheap around here.  Even a short bus ride costs $2!  The subway is cheaper, $1.60 but it is so monstrous that I was uncertain about taking it.  They have done a spectacular job of making the system user friendly.  I noted that besides the oriental characters the names were written in English too.  Colored lines were used on overhead illuminated signs so someone could follow a color to their boarding point.  On my ticket they printed the seat and car I was to take.

 

I returned to the airport with extra time.  I have to meet the supervisor at 4:45, he said he'll try to get me on the flight to Bangkok, even though it is grossly oversold.  I'm not certain how I'll handle it if I can't get a flight today.  If the airplane to Bangkok is full then I'm going on to Singapore and Malaysia.  I really intend to leave or, if necessary, I'll stay here two days then book for L.A.  Chinese New Years celebration has gotten the flights clogged.  I feel uncomfortable about what is happening with Sarah getting out of school and Marcy still in the wheelchair.  If I can't get on, I'll just take that as enough reason to go home.

 

After impatiently waiting at the counter, waiting to be called, not only did I get called to board, but I was also given first class passage.  Even for a six-hour flight it really makes a difference.  The food, seafood curry, was very good and it was delivered with excellent service.  The seats were much wider, and there was plenty of leg room.  I’ve said for years that flying first class is just too costly, but I can see how flying business class can be justified - first class is just overdoing it. 

 

I slept during the flight for a couple hours.  Bangkok is two hours behind Tokyo.  Because I was not certain I'd remain aboard the flight, I was allowed to bring my huge backpack with me.  That way if I was delayed or taken off I'd be able to do it with ease.  Happily that didn't happen, even though the flight was full.

 

Feb 3, 2000    Monday     Bangkok, Thailand

 

One US dollar = 36.47 Baht

 

We landed in BAK. After passing through customs I started to think about a room.  I know Bangkok is much cheaper than Tokyo, but another eighty dollars for a room is going to make me rethink my budget.  I don't really have a budget.  I brought twelve hundred in cash.  Half of that was hidden in my belt, and a credit card.  I want to do this stuff and I'll pay what I must to live modestly.  I thought (because it's 2:00 a.m. in BAK) that a tourist office in the airport might have something cheap and nearby.  I talked to a man name Choi in the little kiosk to the immediate left of the international arrivals' gate.  A blue neon light had the words "Tourist Office" written on it. Mr. Choi showed me several hotels at different prices.  All hotels were much cheaper than those in Japan.  I booked a room at the Metro Palace 21/1 Soi Petchburi 13 in the Ratchatavee section of Bangkok.  It seemed nice in the pictures but I was ready for anything!  Next to me stood a fellow, Ray from Houston, who works for a small Texas oil company.  Although he appeared older because of the balding, he was only thirty-five years old.  I saw him arrange a different hotel at a cheaper price.  After we both had paid for our respective rooms, Ray asked me if I wanted to share a taxi to town.  I agreed, so we split the seven hundred Baht.  For a half-hour ride from the airport into a major metropolitan area, the cost was very reasonable. 

 

We had some pleasant conversation which quickly developed into a friendship.  Ray told me I should visit a place called "Soi Cowboy" where, he said "you can buy a girl for $30.00."  Not for me! (Marcy, if you should read this, just understand that I'm trying to record the scenes as they play before me, doing as little editing as possible.)

 

So I got to my hotel after he was dropped off at his.  He gave me the hotel phone number to call if I wanted to go drinking.  I took his card; he seemed nice enough but drinking and prostitutes were not my idea of a vacation - okay, I know I'm going against what most other guys would think makes this an ideal place to visit, just not me.  Call me a wimp, but I love Marcy and it's not anything I would ever do!

 

At the hotel, which was very nice except for its entrance, which like many other Bangkok hotels opened into an alley.  I was met by Sahn, as he called himself, who introduced himself to me, got my backpack and registered me.  My room on the fifth floor opened to an inner court, which was not completed yet.  Women brought dirty dishes to one of the city fountains, in view of my window, and washed the plates and pots.

 

Travel Tip #6: When I am traveling to a third world nation , I always bring a one hundred NEW one dollar bills. They are well accepted as tips and trying to reconvert small bits of odd foreign currency is very difficult back in the U.S. The bills are always handy, even at U.S. airports, etc.

 

Sahn had brought me to the room and showed me the regular stuff, like how the faucets work, how to adjust the air conditioner, etc.  As I am coaxing him out of the room with a Ten-baht tip he said "Would you like a Thai massage in your room?"  "No, thanks.”  He pulled out what looked like one of those grandmothers’ brag books and flashed twenty pictures of different girls.   "You pick," he said, "only $30.00 for all night."  Stunned, I admit I looked at the photos but only because I was so amazed by his procedure, I didn't even know what to say except to reiterate "No, thanks.”

 

It was about 3:00 a.m. and I was really tired as I shut the door behind him.  I fell asleep in minutes, but only after watching CNN and hearing Alan Greenspan say that prime interest rates would rise one quarter of 1 per cent to slow down the economy. This will affect my stock portfolio.

 

 

Travel Tip # 2: Never look angrily at others. Always smile, even when you know you are getting cheated.  Be firm, but never lose the smile.  You are in a country made from their rules of fairness, not yours.

 

After finishing, I saw "Saugn" behind the counter.  He was there last night now, and he’s also there for early morning.  I asked him to arrange a Tuk-tuk to drive around the city.  He passed me to another hotel employee who said "Yes, Tuk-tuk.  My friend will drive for you."  "What's your friend's name?” I queried.  Suddenly his knowledge of English had become exhausted and he had no response.  He continued walking toward the Tuk-tuk driver nearby, carefully guiding me there, fearful that I might lose focus and walk away. He sustained his toothy smile during this act, completed in silence.

 

I surrendered and boarded the fuming vehicle.  The driver spoke enough English so that I could issue simple commands.  I could only see out of the rear of the vehicle because the cloth ceiling was so low I could only look out the back to see where I was not where I'm going.  Our agreed price, low enough that I chose not to negotiate, was fifty Baht per hour. 

 

After the first attempt to get me to see stores so he could get "gas money" I told him that I intended to buy nothing, still he persisted.  I told him I would give him sixty baht per hour not fifty, but I won't be brought to any store.  He understood and he complied.

 

Although it is early morning, it is the day before Chinese New Year's Day.  The fumes of the street traffic are quickly rising as the mid morning sun heats the asphalt streets.  The driver says that he cannot finish the journey.  He cannot drive the Tuk-tuk on the highway to the airport.  I got my backpack and orange plastic bag out of the cab and spoke with a cab driver parked next to us.  "How much will you charge to drive me to the airport?" I said.  "Two hundred baht.” "Let's go," I replied as I put my stuff into the cab and paid the Tuk-tuk driver one hundred, twenty Baht.  It was a long drive there, thirty minutes.

 

At the airport I picked up my ticket and paid five hundred departure Baht.  I ran the usual airport gauntlet.  It surprises me that so many people go through this mess. Maybe that's why a lot of people choose not to travel.  I had a moment to just sit and reflect on the religious temples that were everywhere, although I can't recall the name of one at this moment.  The river is a significant feature of this city.  Long boats with seats for forty passengers sit idly. They might have been used in the early morning to bring passengers (Read: tourists) up the river to a popular and touristy river market.

 

My flight information: Bangkok Airlines #928

Bangkok to Siem Reap

 

I wandered around until I found, far off in the distance, gate 59.  I sat in front of a monitor, which was set on CNN in English. I had another hour to kill.  I kept close watch for stock news.  There was little except NASDAQ was up twenty-seven points, and tech stocks were doing well.  I neglected to mention a stop I made this morning with the Tuk-tuk.  I finally found an Internet access place.  I was able to send news, brief as it was, of my journey to this point. There was some difficulty getting aboard the Internet, but after three tries I got there.  Only one message from Marcy was waiting for me. That's a surprise. I hope she's doing well - but with all the people lining up to be with her while I was gone I doubt she'll have an abundance of quiet time.  At this moment the prop plane of Thai Airlines is about to finish its one-hour flight to Siem Reap, and the plane has begun its descent.   

 

The arrival at Siem Reap Airport reminded me of an arrival at the airport in Havana, Cuba with Marcy. The airfield was small and covered with low-cut, wispy blonde weeds. As we flew low on approach to land, I saw peasants farming at the edges of the airfield.  Oxen pulled a heavy wooden plow guided by a young boy and his sister. A long walk across the terminal led me to four very inquisitive, slightly hostile officials who took my twenty dollars for a permit of entrance. 

 

I was the first of this flight to confront the guards.  One soldier stepped forward to ask for a yellow form I had not finished completely.  This polite officer wore bronze star on each shoulder.  He didn't care that I had no photo in hand. I accidentally left all eight of them in my luggage.  A small horde of local cabbies jockeyed around me, trying to grab my backpack and get me into their cab.

 

A short, sinewy, young man who introduced himself to me as "Rune” or "Roon," seemed friendly and said he would drive me to the Green Tea Guesthouse which, my Lonely Planet Guide said was $20 per night.  It was full.  Roon said he knew a good hotel that was about the same price.  He drove through the town from the airport with care to avoid the many bicyclists and motorcycles, many laden with pigs or chickens for the coming holiday tomorrow of the Lunar New Year Day.

 

This important Chinese holiday marks the year of the Golden Dragon.  Supposedly it will be a year of powerful growth, or so it is predicted.  Roon says fireworks will be going all day.  He stopped at Angkor Saphir Hotel which was a small twenty-room hotel. This small, new hotel, like all the other similar places, had prices governed by the principles of supply and demand.  Because of the upcoming long holiday for New Year’s day celebration, all prices are increased fifty to 100 per cent.  I overheard a German traveler remark that he was having a difficult time finding a room.  That conversation was enough for me.  I didn’t want to spend valuable time trying to find a place to sleep.  I took the first room I saw. 

The sleeping quarters were not too fancy in any respect, but it had a bathroom with hot water. The room seemed clean, only later would I discover, in the very early hours of the morning, a stream of very tiny ants quietly marching in tight formation, into a flaw in the plastered wall where they disappeared.

 

Roon told me about his life, briefly.  His parents were both alive, and live in Cambodia as poor farmers.  He wanted to continue his education in languages, but his parents are too poor.  He came to Angkor Wat to take a temporary job as a taxi driver where he practices his language skills.  He earns $50 a month doing this job.  Then $20 pays for an apartment, and $10 pays for food.  He depends on tips to acquire enough to return to his studies. Hmm - this sounds strangely like stories I have heard before!  Hey! He's not saying this to "prime" ME is he?

 

I asked Roon to take me to a place where I can buy handicrafts made by locals.  Instead he brings me to a touristy center where substandard goods are priced at four times their worth but sold for much less if you are not identified as a tourist from a luxury hotel. Wary travelers could get fair prices if willing to do substantial bargaining.  The sun had set and the rustic setting took on an ominous feeling as Roon began the journey back to the hotel without his headlights on. That was worsened by the fact that most bicyclists had no lights on either, although most bikes had lights mounted on them.  I could sense the inevitability of a crash.  Instead, we only had three or four very narrow misses, and just one involved screaming.

 

We went to dinner at a restaurant called Banyon II, which was within walking distance from the hotel at which I was staying.  Tourists frequent the whitewashed, plain-looking eatery, but the menu was very reasonable.  Several businesses have prices posted in local currency and dollars. Although that would signify that they expected tourists, it was comforting to know that they were prepared to accommodate the idiosyncratic behavior of foreigners. My main dish of chicken with noodles cost two dollars.  A bottle of beer, Tiger beer, a local Cambodian brewed, was one dollar. I could get used to this. 

 

The entire meal, in a fancy outdoor setting was less than ten dollars!  This might cost six or seven times that back home.  Roon requested a dish made of dried shrimp as its main ingredient.  Surprisingly, while he hated the taste of the sunflower seeds I offered him earlier today, his dinner was very salty, crunchy and full of various textures.

 

He left me at the hotel.  I got the key and was ready to sleep in moments.  The air conditioning chilled the room in two minutes.  I watched CNN to observe events of the world that I was out of touch with. 

 

 

February  4, 2000    Tuesday Siem Reap, Cambodia

 

I woke at 4:00 a.m. and watched a movie documentary about Sierra Leone in Africa called "Cry Freedom Town,” a horrific portrayal of civil/military insurrection throughout the country.  The events it portrayed occurred in 1998, much too recently.  I was fully awake and dressed now. 

 

 I walked downstairs, into a long room just off the hotel lobby. I momentarily had a problem finding the light switch for the darkened café. It shouldn’t have been too difficult to find because a ghastly greenish fluorescent light faintly lighted the room, and a white flickering light reflected off the gray linoleum floor from a far off black and white television tuned to a Cambodian theatrical art station.

 

The white clay-tiled floor was marred by one thin, black line stretched from underneath the bed across to the edge of the bathroom door.  I stepped over it carefully.  When I looked closely, I became aware that this string was composed of tiny ants. The pinhead-sized creatures were indistinguishable from the next in the one long, slowly undulating line.  After brushing my teeth, I left the toothpaste tube uncapped. 

 

When I stepped out of the shower, the ants had quickly claimed the sweet dental paste as their own.  I wasn't prepared for incessant battle, so I left them their booty.  I dressed, and then went downstairs to a light breakfast of winter melon tea and a bottle of water.  Not too many calories in that.  I was to meet Roon at 8am to go out to Angkor today.  I took my pills, stored carefully by my wonderful wife in a small plastic box, sectioned for daily consumption.

 

I met Roon downstairs in the lobby.  I was writing when Roon showed up at 7:30 a.m., a little early.  The bright clear day cast its morning light on the busy street out in front of the hotel. The traffic stirred the brown pallor of street grime. Slowly, the dust was agitated, swirling high above the myriad bicycles, pick-up trucks, motorcycles, and hundreds of human feet as vendors pushed wheelbarrows or un-motorized carts.  There were few vehicles that traversed these roads without a full burden.  Sometimes an entire family of four would crowd on a lightweight motorbike.  In preparation for tomorrow, baskets of incense sticks, flowers, or a balanced load of wooden-crated pigs were carefully tied to the back of vehicles for the celebration. Chickens ready to be slaughtered would be left hanging upside down, suspended by a light twine strung around the feet.

 

There was staccato, ping-pong chatter from three small groups of women, standing at the edge of the street holding vegetables, chickens, and babies who were discussing tomorrow's holiday.   Men bargaining for tools or livestock in loud voices added the din.   Nowhere near here would I find a quiet moment.  Roon added to the cacophony as he started the aging Toyota and turned on the air conditioning, making the cab almost in an instant, too cold.  I flipped the waterproof orange bag on the sunbaked blue plastic backseat so I could sit on it.  Roon twisted to see as he slowly backed up into the busy street.  Carefully, he searched for a safe space in the horde of bicycles, speeding motorbikes, and wooden-stake trucks, which are often used to transport small groups of people. A huge, dry, yellow dust cloud was created by the rapidly spinning wheels as Roon’s vehicle tried to quickly accelerate on the hard packed dirt boulevard. Off we were, immediately absorbed into the motorized tapestry of commerce.

 

 About eight miles outside Siem Reap, by a well-paved asphalt road we came to the stone arch entrance to the holy grounds of Angkor Wat.  All vehicles had to stop and pull aside.  Only exiting vehicles were waved through.  I had to pay one dollar to a camouflage-uniformed soldier for "parking," and twenty for the official fee to enter this monument. 

 

One thousand years is young by Egyptian standards, but these temples, erected for the predecessor of the Hindu religion, were so incredible, and so well restored that I thought this place is a worthwhile stop for every traveler.   I climbed several of the temples that had been restored, exploring them all with my eyes and camera.  I was careful not to disturb one stone or artifact.  The photos I bring home should be as amazing for my friends to see as  it was for me.

 

 Like other economically poor countries, I was followed by bands of small children trying to get money for fanning me, or pointing me toward a more interesting path.  I went back to town for an afternoon nap.  My laundry was returned to me.  The clothes were washed, very cleanly, in the river, and then the pants and shirts were ironed. Two shirts, one pair of pants, lots of white socks and cotton underpants cost two dollars.  I went to the hotel for a few minutes.  It was very hot and I took a cool shower.  At 1:00 p.m. we went back to Angkor (the ticket - good for one day allows multiple entries). I climbed a hill to see the sun set on the main Khymer tower of Angkor.  Fifty tourists stood atop this hill with me, for the 6:00 p.m. sight.  I wasn't impressed, but if I were to visit in the morning a sunrise might be wonderful.  Next, I went back to the hotel. I was ready for sleep very quickly, although my own body smell was acrid and uncomfortable. I overcame this issue when I quickly fell asleep till 4:00 a.m.

 

February 5, 2000    Wednesday    Siem Reap, Cambodia

 

 Roon came to the small restaurant within the hotel. I was drinking tea and eating a warm baguette with butter and jam.  He was ready to go whenever I was so, I finished up this light meal and put my stuff away in the room so everything was locked in the army duffel bag I had.  The bag was a way to prevent people from checking pockets of the backpack while it is not in my sight (and even then things happen).    The bag is so heavy that it would be difficult for a person who doesn’t weigh two hundred, twenty pounds (like me) to lift the bag and maneuver it around.

         

Roon brought me further into this small town to the "Freedom Hotel.”  They had better rooms for thirty dollars, so we went back to my hotel and they were willing to make it thirty dollars too.  Prices are only so high because this is Chinese New Years Day and everybody wants to travel to be with their family (if they are Chinese or Buddhist). Back to Angkor Wat, where I explored the ruins - they seem to run on endlessly.  Each depiction is different, although the basic style is the same. Battle or religious scenes usually were of historical significance, and pointed to a struggle of good versus evil. 

 

The signs of current and recent work by the Japanese government were in many parts of the temple grounds.  They have embarked on the difficult task of preserving, and where possible, restoring the structures.  Often the damage is little more than blocks of stone being replaced in the proper order. Several structures looked to be ready to fall.  Many buildings like that had been temporarily reinforced with a heavy wire wrapped around the structure.  We stopped to buy some Cambodian cigarettes.  Three packs for a dollar.  I bought a few carved stamps for friends, and several other small gift items. I watched a silversmith hammer out a small jewelry box.  I liked it and bought it for Marcy. Roon said he’d get the box when it is completed later today.

 

 It has been very hot and humid today.  I was doing a good share of climbing, where permitted.  The rest I had at 1:00 p.m. rejuvenated me.  I could shower