After the volcano (and realizing that it was an hour earlier than we thought - tricky Java!) we got on a minibus to return to sea level and perhaps a room larger than a roomy park bench. Once again, we found ourselves in the fun-to-say town of Probbolinggo, en route to somewhere. We hopped a bus to Surabaya, which we quickly realized was not the metropolis for us, and after zooming across town in a cab, hopped a train to Solo (which we managed to make thanks to Kate's still-unadjusted watch). By 8pm, we were safely ensonced in our new hostel, and again eating our first meal since before 8 am. You'd think we would have learned after 3 months on the road to pack some snacks...
Let's talk Java: Java is the main island in the Indonesian archipelago, home to more than half of Indonesia's population (which is a whopping 225 million people - 4th most populace nation after China, India, and the U.S.). A whole bunch of these people live in Jakarta (where we're not going), but immediately upon arrival anywhere on the island you can feel the density around you. Surabaya, for example, has 3 million people in it, and who has ever heard of Surabaya? So these are some big cities we're talking about. Oh, and most people are Muslim, although there's also a lot of Javanese culture that is more hinduism/buddhism/animist in nature. They meditate and make offerings like the Balinese, but wear head scarves and go to the masque. As if to emphasize the point, the call to prayer can currently be heard over the rain outside.
Solo is in central Java, about an hour or two from Yogyakarta. It is a strange urban mix of traffic and no restuarants, batik markets and eager pedicabs. We tried to go to the kraton (sultan's palace) today, but its closed on Fridays (!) so we settled for the King's palace, where the royal family is still in residence. A friendly guide told us about all sorts of royal objects (including male and female gold chastity belts which look painful - please note the male belt, which had spikes, was broken) and insisted we take many, many pictures. Tomorrow we are headed out on a bicycle tour of the surrounding villages, seeing Batik makers and tofu makers and arak (liquor) makers and gamelan makers and roof tile makers and Javan countryside.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Bro -mo, Ja-va
We bid farewell to the island of Bali after a harrowing 2 hour minibus ride in the oldest public VW bus imaginable - the driver had to keep his foot on the break while pumping gas, yet another feat of Balinese bendyness. A 45 minute ferry ride (which included air conditioning and loud Indonesian pop music videos) took us to the island of Java. We negotiated hard with the persistent minibus driver (or actually, minibus pimp, since he turned out not to be the driver but simply the face of the driving operation) to take us to Mt. Bromo, an active volcano in Eastern Java. After much haggling, we agreed and set off down the road to Bromo. 4 hours later, we were unceremoniously dropped in Probbolinggo (actual spelling!), still an hour and half down the road from the mountain. We shortly boarded another minibus for Cemora Lawang, the town on the slope of the volcano. After an hour of engine idling on the side of the road, we set off for the mountain, winding along hairpin turns through ridiculously steep farmland that looked more like Peru than Southeast Asia. We made it by sunset and got into a cozy lodge to enjoy our first meal since before 8am - oh, delicious Bintang Beer!
Most people get up before dawn and ride in a jeep or hike a long way to see the sunrise view of the volcano. However, this is the rainy season, and the mountain was totally socked in by fog, so we slept in and got up at a more human 6am for our fog walk up to the crater of the smoking volcano. We felt smug as we traipsed across the lava field, watching tired and disgruntled early risers return to the hotel in the fog. In some ways the fog added to the mythical feeling of climbing an active volcano, or so we told ourselves as we stared into whiteness from the top of the ridiculous stairway. On our way back, the fog cleared and we had some decent views of the volcano and its neighboring mountains. Gunung Bromo (as its called in Bahasa Indonesian) was surprisingly worth the trip, if only for the chance to shiver in the rain instead of sweat in the heat of lowland Java.
Most people get up before dawn and ride in a jeep or hike a long way to see the sunrise view of the volcano. However, this is the rainy season, and the mountain was totally socked in by fog, so we slept in and got up at a more human 6am for our fog walk up to the crater of the smoking volcano. We felt smug as we traipsed across the lava field, watching tired and disgruntled early risers return to the hotel in the fog. In some ways the fog added to the mythical feeling of climbing an active volcano, or so we told ourselves as we stared into whiteness from the top of the ridiculous stairway. On our way back, the fog cleared and we had some decent views of the volcano and its neighboring mountains. Gunung Bromo (as its called in Bahasa Indonesian) was surprisingly worth the trip, if only for the chance to shiver in the rain instead of sweat in the heat of lowland Java.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Lovin' Lovina
I don't know if we've made this clear yet, but you should all get your asses to Bali. Its beautiful and touristy and cliched, and then manages to magnanimously rise above the cliches and enchant you anyway. The people are all friendly and smiling and artsy and lovely - they ARE. In the midst of the Muslim nation of Indonesia (with its 15,000 islands and crazy mix of cultures), Bali is this Hindu holdout with temples to Shiva and Brahma and Vishnu, and endless reenactments of traditional Hindu stories like the Ramayana. Each Balinese person gets up in the morning and puts out an offering to the 3-gods-that-are-one-god, leaving little bamboo leaf baskets of flowers and crackers and incense and the occasional cup of coffee on every curb and doorway. Its incredibly hot and humid, making it nearly impossible to do anything in the middle of the day except lie on your bed or, if you're lucky, in a swimming pool. The island is lush and floral and smells good and has volcanoes and monkeys and beautiful beaches and is basically everyone's picture postcard idea of paradise. But not in an annoying way! Oh, just see for yourselves..Its astounding.
So, Ubud is the inland tourist mecca for Balinese culture, which we lazily lapped up. Molly learned to play the gamelan and Kate carved a cool wooden mask and I learned to make a bunch of Balinese food (including these coconut/palm sugar crepe things that are unbelievable) and then we went to a dance show at the community center, in which Molly's music teacher lead the band. The dancers move like no Western person could ever hope to move - their hands bend in crazy ways and their eyes dart back and forth, accenting their movements. The next day we got ourselves up for early morning yoga at the Yoga Barn - a place designed for all of the thousands of expats running around Ubud. Even at 8 am, the place was hot and crowded with people, but it was still relaxing and counts as exercise in the tropical heat. Next we headed to the Arma art museum and looked at some Balinese paintings, the most recent of which include tourists with their cameras in the Where's Waldo style depictions. By this time, it was too hot to do anything but go to the pool and sit on our patio and play cards while sipping giant Bintang beers.
For Molly's last night, we headed out to a 3 course dinner of Cheese Plate and Wine at the DeliCat, traditional Indonesian fare at Gaia, and minimart ice cream bar. We retired early because we were all traveling the next day and wanted to get up to see the market in the morning. The Ubud market has the typical tourist stands that sell scarves and sarongs and Balinese carvings, but it also has a large food section that I discovered during my cooking class. All of the locals come here, starting at 4am, to do their grocery shopping and pick up the supplies for their offerings and haggle over mangosteens and rice and turmeric root. Getting there before breakfast (and before the heat of the day and the crush of the tour buses) means actually seeing some Ubudians going about their daily business - not to mention getting some delicious breakfast treats.
Then Molly departed (so sad!) for the airport, laden down with a whole lot of our stuff, and we departed for Lovina, a beach town on the north shore of Bali. After a 3 hour ride over the mountains and through the beautiful rice fields and terraced hillsides, we arrived at the Angsoka Hotel in Lovina ready to hit the pool and stroll along the dark sandy beach. Lovina is sleepy and quiet and surprisingly clean, the beach full of small fishing and tour boats. We watched a bunch of guys play volleyball on the town court and wondered at the fact that the town is full of older Europeans. This morning, we got up early and went out to the Lovina reef to do some snorkeling before noon. We traveled about 10 minutes in a hollowed out tree boat with bamboo outriggers tied on for stabilization. These colorful fishing boats line the beaches here. A lovely snorkel in the rolling waves followed by lunch near the beach. The rest of the afternoon will be spent indoors under fans and at computers until it's cool enough to go back out and take a long pre-dinner walk.
Tomorrow we leave charming and beautiful Bali for Java!!
So, Ubud is the inland tourist mecca for Balinese culture, which we lazily lapped up. Molly learned to play the gamelan and Kate carved a cool wooden mask and I learned to make a bunch of Balinese food (including these coconut/palm sugar crepe things that are unbelievable) and then we went to a dance show at the community center, in which Molly's music teacher lead the band. The dancers move like no Western person could ever hope to move - their hands bend in crazy ways and their eyes dart back and forth, accenting their movements. The next day we got ourselves up for early morning yoga at the Yoga Barn - a place designed for all of the thousands of expats running around Ubud. Even at 8 am, the place was hot and crowded with people, but it was still relaxing and counts as exercise in the tropical heat. Next we headed to the Arma art museum and looked at some Balinese paintings, the most recent of which include tourists with their cameras in the Where's Waldo style depictions. By this time, it was too hot to do anything but go to the pool and sit on our patio and play cards while sipping giant Bintang beers.
For Molly's last night, we headed out to a 3 course dinner of Cheese Plate and Wine at the DeliCat, traditional Indonesian fare at Gaia, and minimart ice cream bar. We retired early because we were all traveling the next day and wanted to get up to see the market in the morning. The Ubud market has the typical tourist stands that sell scarves and sarongs and Balinese carvings, but it also has a large food section that I discovered during my cooking class. All of the locals come here, starting at 4am, to do their grocery shopping and pick up the supplies for their offerings and haggle over mangosteens and rice and turmeric root. Getting there before breakfast (and before the heat of the day and the crush of the tour buses) means actually seeing some Ubudians going about their daily business - not to mention getting some delicious breakfast treats.
Then Molly departed (so sad!) for the airport, laden down with a whole lot of our stuff, and we departed for Lovina, a beach town on the north shore of Bali. After a 3 hour ride over the mountains and through the beautiful rice fields and terraced hillsides, we arrived at the Angsoka Hotel in Lovina ready to hit the pool and stroll along the dark sandy beach. Lovina is sleepy and quiet and surprisingly clean, the beach full of small fishing and tour boats. We watched a bunch of guys play volleyball on the town court and wondered at the fact that the town is full of older Europeans. This morning, we got up early and went out to the Lovina reef to do some snorkeling before noon. We traveled about 10 minutes in a hollowed out tree boat with bamboo outriggers tied on for stabilization. These colorful fishing boats line the beaches here. A lovely snorkel in the rolling waves followed by lunch near the beach. The rest of the afternoon will be spent indoors under fans and at computers until it's cool enough to go back out and take a long pre-dinner walk.
Tomorrow we leave charming and beautiful Bali for Java!!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Mastered surfing - now on to art!
Since all three of us are now so good at surfing that our Balinese instructors could teach us no more about this sport, we left the beaches for higher ground. From the south coast we drove north to Ubud, a small mountain town packed with artisans and tourist. Luckily, there are a pleasant few western chain stores or tourist buses but the main focus of this town is artisans selling to tourists. There are loads of boutique shops brimming with batik fabrics, woven purses, and carvings as well as many galleries and artists studios. We are staying in a guesthouse buried down a tiny alley which opens onto a series of terraces and little houses over a small river. There is tea left on the deck in the morning and a swimming pool beyond the rice paddies in the back.
We spent the morning in the Monkey Forest which is a very well cared for, jungle park in the middle of the town which is packed with Monkeys. The path is full of great Balinese sculptures (frequently these ogre looking sculptures are anatomically correct with some boastful artistic license – very Balinese it seems.)
The afternoons are very hot as there is no ocean breeze to cool you in Ubud. We’ve each signed up for classes (Kyle; Balinese cooking, Molly; Gamelan playing (like a wooden xylophone) and me; traditional wooden mask carving. Tonight we’re scheduled for homemade cocktails on our balcony and a long walk to a bar that boasts of a trivia night. Guess it’s not the most Balinese thing to do but it’s a flavor of home that we couldn’t resist. Tomorrow night we are going to a traditional dance performance - something culturally relevant I suppose.
We spent the morning in the Monkey Forest which is a very well cared for, jungle park in the middle of the town which is packed with Monkeys. The path is full of great Balinese sculptures (frequently these ogre looking sculptures are anatomically correct with some boastful artistic license – very Balinese it seems.)
The afternoons are very hot as there is no ocean breeze to cool you in Ubud. We’ve each signed up for classes (Kyle; Balinese cooking, Molly; Gamelan playing (like a wooden xylophone) and me; traditional wooden mask carving. Tonight we’re scheduled for homemade cocktails on our balcony and a long walk to a bar that boasts of a trivia night. Guess it’s not the most Balinese thing to do but it’s a flavor of home that we couldn’t resist. Tomorrow night we are going to a traditional dance performance - something culturally relevant I suppose.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Yes, my Balanese surf instructor's name is Steamy
We're in Indonesia!!! Kyle is falling behind on our Siem Reap post so I will just go ahead with BALI!!!
Our big splurge of the trip is a week at a surf camp in Bali. We flew from Siem Reap to Kuala Lumpur and on to Dempasar, Bali. It's so amazingly beautiful here with little shrines/temples of banana leaves and colorful tropical flowers everywhere. Bali is full of really friendly and smiley people all of whom drive like maniacs. The surf camp is called Padang Padang surf camp is a wonderful three building compound with lots of hammocks, a pool, an open air dining area and an 8 month old baby named Zoe who is the worlds happiest, most laid back baby.
There are a pair of Australian boys who like to get silly drunk and go to the cheesy club every night but are nice guys. There is another pair of Americans, both beginner surfers like us, who both work in finance . . . but are pretty nice. The instructors are very surfer-type Indonesian/Balinese guys who like to poke fun at everyone. One of theme is named Steamy, no joke.
For Molly's birthday, we went out of a night of dancing in Kuta, the big tourist town. That's exactly what Kuta turned out to be; a very big, VERY touristy town. It sort of reminds me of Honolulu with lots of overpriced Name Brand tropical clothing stores mixed with a few designer stores and a sprinkling of bad American chain restaurants. We went to some cheesy and perfect for birthday celebrating, club named Bounty (at the suggestion of our Aussie surf-mates) and danced. The club included fish bowl sized terrible tropical drinks and Karaoke with a live band. This sounds sort of awful but it was great because the keyboard guy would just take over singing when the song really started to flop.
So our days are spent "surfing", which involves painful amounts of paddling, sunscreen and zinc fit for whiteys like us, a lot of comical falling, plenty of waiting around for the tide to be right a cruising around the island in a van (at 1 million km/hour) listening to proto-typical surfer music. Our evenings are spent mostly in the pool cooling our sunburns before applying liberal amounts of ointment and aloe and to bed early before starting it all over again in the morning. It's great!!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Smokin' Pot and the Circus
Let's clear this up first: The Smokin'Pot is a restaurant/cooking school in Battambang where the three of us took a half day cooking course.
The morning began with a trip to the market to buy the ingredients. The class was 8 people with one instructor who walked us through the market showing us herbs, produce and meats/fish we'd never seen before. It was really nice to learn about some of the things we'd been seeing all over Cambodia. We watched our fish be de-headed, tailed, scaled and, while still wiggling, put in a plastic bag for transport to our woks.
Back to the cooking school for Khmer curry made with coconut milk that we squeezed ourselves and curry past we mashed ourselves in stone mortars. After that was a spicy salad, similar to a coleslaw with lots of chillies. After that was the spicy beef with basil. I boldly added the authentic (more like masochistic) 10 chillies. Let's just say that my mouth and lips hurt for several hours but it was still a delicious meal and a very fun way to spend a morning.
In the evening, we decided to go to a performance we'd seen several fliers for. It was some kind of fine arts school circus show and art exhibit. The kids (13-20 years old) were fantastic and completely charming with a mix of acrobatics, juggling, contortionists, unicycling and a grand finale of tumbling through hoops of fire! The whole show was accompanied by the music students on a combination of traditional and non-traditional Khmer instruments. The art exhibit was equally fantastic with many watercolors and pen and ink drawings for sale, one of which I bought for myself.
The morning began with a trip to the market to buy the ingredients. The class was 8 people with one instructor who walked us through the market showing us herbs, produce and meats/fish we'd never seen before. It was really nice to learn about some of the things we'd been seeing all over Cambodia. We watched our fish be de-headed, tailed, scaled and, while still wiggling, put in a plastic bag for transport to our woks.
Back to the cooking school for Khmer curry made with coconut milk that we squeezed ourselves and curry past we mashed ourselves in stone mortars. After that was a spicy salad, similar to a coleslaw with lots of chillies. After that was the spicy beef with basil. I boldly added the authentic (more like masochistic) 10 chillies. Let's just say that my mouth and lips hurt for several hours but it was still a delicious meal and a very fun way to spend a morning.
In the evening, we decided to go to a performance we'd seen several fliers for. It was some kind of fine arts school circus show and art exhibit. The kids (13-20 years old) were fantastic and completely charming with a mix of acrobatics, juggling, contortionists, unicycling and a grand finale of tumbling through hoops of fire! The whole show was accompanied by the music students on a combination of traditional and non-traditional Khmer instruments. The art exhibit was equally fantastic with many watercolors and pen and ink drawings for sale, one of which I bought for myself.
Glambodia
Upon our arrival in Battambang, we decided to follow the suggestion in our guidebook of having authentic Khmer staged photographs taken.
We all assumed it was likely to be something like mall photographs with silly hats and a cheesy backgrounds. We found the camera store that provides this service and settled in to watch the few other young girls in front of us have their photographs taken. While watching the girls in front of us transform into bedazzled Asian goddesses, we realized we were in for so much more. We three were ugly western ducklings about to emerge as lovely Asian swans.
After waiting almost an hour for the girls before us to finish their photos, we were up. Each of us received a full face of stage make-up complete with eyebrow shaving, some kind of eyelid sticker that makes your eyes wider, approximately 7 layers of pancake make-up (which only loosely resembled any of our skin tones) and fantastic false eyelashes. Then on to hair; each of us had our own fake hair piece, teasing and hairspray dousing session and emerged with the most gravity defying hairstyles ever. Then, it was time for outfits. We each picked our own hue of two piece traditional dress with various accessories chosen by our dressers (I got the bronze chicken perched on my shoulder - what does that say about me exactly?).
The three of us dazzling ladies had 8 glamorous (and authentically posed) portraits taken. The result is unbelievably stunning if I do say so myself!
It only took two days to removed the make-up!
We all assumed it was likely to be something like mall photographs with silly hats and a cheesy backgrounds. We found the camera store that provides this service and settled in to watch the few other young girls in front of us have their photographs taken. While watching the girls in front of us transform into bedazzled Asian goddesses, we realized we were in for so much more. We three were ugly western ducklings about to emerge as lovely Asian swans.
After waiting almost an hour for the girls before us to finish their photos, we were up. Each of us received a full face of stage make-up complete with eyebrow shaving, some kind of eyelid sticker that makes your eyes wider, approximately 7 layers of pancake make-up (which only loosely resembled any of our skin tones) and fantastic false eyelashes. Then on to hair; each of us had our own fake hair piece, teasing and hairspray dousing session and emerged with the most gravity defying hairstyles ever. Then, it was time for outfits. We each picked our own hue of two piece traditional dress with various accessories chosen by our dressers (I got the bronze chicken perched on my shoulder - what does that say about me exactly?).
The three of us dazzling ladies had 8 glamorous (and authentically posed) portraits taken. The result is unbelievably stunning if I do say so myself!
It only took two days to removed the make-up!
Battambang Modes of Transportation
As there is so much to see and do in Battambang, we decided to stay for 4 days. Because we are 3 adventurous and daring ladies, we eschewed the traditional tuktuk tour of surrounding sights, opting instead for a self-led motorbike tour of the countryside. We rented 2 bikes (all in brand sparkling new condition) and headed off, with the adorable moto rental man asking us please to not make any scratches. Oh, never sir. Not on your life.
We headed 13 kilometers up the road to Wat Ek Phnom, a ruined temple built in the 11th century that still shows some incredible stone carving (and boasts a halfbuilt giant buddha next door). We were shown around the temple by a very small 15 year old boy who pointed at things and hurried us along. We accidentally interrupted some Khmer youth making out in a hidden room. All very delightful. We then drove around the countryside for a little while, Molly taking the helm of her moto for the first time. Everything was peachy and we headed back to town to go South, in search of Cambodia's only winery.
Almost to the south end of town, something happened and there was a minor motoing accident. I was driving and Kate and I tipped over and then in shock and horror Molly tipped over in response. Many friendly Khmers rushed to help us and told us to get cleaned up, as we had a couple of minor scrapes. Yikes, these things are a little dangerous I guess, and thank goodness we had opted for the cool looking helmets. A little unnerved, we went back to our hotel to use our fancy little first aid kit and assess the minor damage. Everyone is fine, though we might look a little iffy for surf camp. Or we might look really hardcore. You be the judge.
The winery was now out, and the motos were a little scratched up (sorry motoman) so we returned them and smiled and bought a bunch of beers and watched the locals do aerobics on the riverside and went to dinner and atoned for breaking the motos and swore off finding our own mode of transportation.
The next day we opted for strolling around the east side of town (where we ran into the Maddox Jolie-Pitt Foundation - an unassuming building with a strong gate and no famous Brangelina offspring in sight) and getting a tuktuk to the much discussed Bamboo Train. The Bamboo Train is a square platform of bamboo with a small motor that is on the main traintracks running between Battambang and Phnom Penh. These things are genious because they are so quickly and easily dismantled when there is a train (or other bamboo platform) coming from the opposite direction: the platform is removed into the grass beside the tracks, the two axels are taken off, and people proceed in their direction. Whoever has the heavier train car has the right of way. So we hop aboard the train and zip out into the countryside for about 20 minutes, stopping once to dismantle and remantle. The open air ride was fantastic and we saw rice paddies and cows and jungle on all sides as we clicked along.
Our midpoint was a small village with a few people hanging around the tracks, singing and dancing and clapping, headed up by a spirited gentleman in an army jacket. Molly and Kate joined in and a hilarious five minutes of cart shuffling was spent wiggling on the train tracks and laughing with this funny man who was thoroughly entertained and entertaining. Then we hopped back on the train and went back to where we started, with the singing man and a large group of people and things on the car behind us. Hilarious!
Later we trapsed through the market and bought some scarves and stainless steel stacking lunch pales that are the coolest thing ever. Then we hit the sunset aerobics and dinner on the East Side before retiring early in preparation for the 8 hour boat trip to Siem Reap in the morning.
We headed 13 kilometers up the road to Wat Ek Phnom, a ruined temple built in the 11th century that still shows some incredible stone carving (and boasts a halfbuilt giant buddha next door). We were shown around the temple by a very small 15 year old boy who pointed at things and hurried us along. We accidentally interrupted some Khmer youth making out in a hidden room. All very delightful. We then drove around the countryside for a little while, Molly taking the helm of her moto for the first time. Everything was peachy and we headed back to town to go South, in search of Cambodia's only winery.
Almost to the south end of town, something happened and there was a minor motoing accident. I was driving and Kate and I tipped over and then in shock and horror Molly tipped over in response. Many friendly Khmers rushed to help us and told us to get cleaned up, as we had a couple of minor scrapes. Yikes, these things are a little dangerous I guess, and thank goodness we had opted for the cool looking helmets. A little unnerved, we went back to our hotel to use our fancy little first aid kit and assess the minor damage. Everyone is fine, though we might look a little iffy for surf camp. Or we might look really hardcore. You be the judge.
The winery was now out, and the motos were a little scratched up (sorry motoman) so we returned them and smiled and bought a bunch of beers and watched the locals do aerobics on the riverside and went to dinner and atoned for breaking the motos and swore off finding our own mode of transportation.
The next day we opted for strolling around the east side of town (where we ran into the Maddox Jolie-Pitt Foundation - an unassuming building with a strong gate and no famous Brangelina offspring in sight) and getting a tuktuk to the much discussed Bamboo Train. The Bamboo Train is a square platform of bamboo with a small motor that is on the main traintracks running between Battambang and Phnom Penh. These things are genious because they are so quickly and easily dismantled when there is a train (or other bamboo platform) coming from the opposite direction: the platform is removed into the grass beside the tracks, the two axels are taken off, and people proceed in their direction. Whoever has the heavier train car has the right of way. So we hop aboard the train and zip out into the countryside for about 20 minutes, stopping once to dismantle and remantle. The open air ride was fantastic and we saw rice paddies and cows and jungle on all sides as we clicked along.
Our midpoint was a small village with a few people hanging around the tracks, singing and dancing and clapping, headed up by a spirited gentleman in an army jacket. Molly and Kate joined in and a hilarious five minutes of cart shuffling was spent wiggling on the train tracks and laughing with this funny man who was thoroughly entertained and entertaining. Then we hopped back on the train and went back to where we started, with the singing man and a large group of people and things on the car behind us. Hilarious!
Later we trapsed through the market and bought some scarves and stainless steel stacking lunch pales that are the coolest thing ever. Then we hit the sunset aerobics and dinner on the East Side before retiring early in preparation for the 8 hour boat trip to Siem Reap in the morning.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
A few days in Phenom Penh
A new addition to our traveling duo arrived right from the west coast of the motherland - Molly Lehrkind is here in Cambodia!
We picked up Molly at the airport, complete with our own welcome song/rap to sing to her on the tuk-tuk to our hotel.
We spent the afternoon at the Royal palace with every other tourist in the city of Phenom Penh. Nice looking place with pretty gardens but I personally felt it a little over-rated. We walked all around town, showing Molly the city as best we could. Then dinner, I would say our nicest and tastiest dinner in Asia. The restaurant is called Friends and is run by an NGO (as many restaurants in PP are which is a great way to give). The restaurant is staffed (kitchen and wait-staff) by homeless kids who are helped with schooling and skills training, drug rehab and/or family reunification. It was an EXCELLENT meal and the staff was superb.
For the next two days, we explored the main sites of Phenom Penh which include the S-21 prison where Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge housed and tortured prisoners before sending them to the Killing Fields for extermination. We visited both the prison and the Killing Fields (a former fruit orchard about 15 km outside of the city). Needless to say this was a difficult history to learn about and walk through. The Khmer Rouge, much like the Nazis of WWII, documented their brutality and killings quite thoroughly. The prison, a converted High school, still stands almost exactly as it was and is filled with photographs of the victims. We also watched a short film documentary and read many accounts. The most astounding parts of this very dark part of Cambodian history is how recent it was and how little legal justice has taken place. The Khmer Rouge was pushed out of Cambodia 30 years ago yesterday (Jan. 7 is national Victory Over Genocide Day here) but the leaders have never been officially tried. In 1979, the year that my older brother was born, 2 million people were murdered in this country by fellow Khmer, mostly out of fear of being killed themselves by the Khmer Rouge.
History lesson over.
The three of us also took part in another Hashing run. We met up with a number of expats and travelers and ran about 5 km through some rice paddies and ended at a wat somewhere way out in the countryside. We ended that evening with dinner for about 15 with plenty of Angkor Beer to go around. Good conversations and good food.
We left Phenom Penh for a day of small town relief from the big city. Staying in Kampong Chhnang for the night was sufficiently and pleasantly small town; everything closed at 8pm. We rode bikes to the riverfront to catch a little gondola-esque boat for a tour of the floating village. A cluster of maybe 100 or so floating boats and houses and everything in between were lashed together and floating on clusters of bamboo rods. Quite a sight.
Off to Battambang - second largest town in Cambodia.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Phenom Penh and NYE
\Please excuse my typing as for some reason the shift adds somethingevery time |I try to capitalize something and the space bar onlyworksabout 50% ofthetime. \
\oh - guess the return keydoes it too.\
\Phenom \Penh is a very large capitol city which includes all the good things and bad things froma foreign city. |Good food options and fantastic markets full of treasures. |The tuktuk drivers are ruthless and seemingly around every corner and making it to the other side of the street on foot is a minor daily victory.\
\PP has had a troubled history and is still very much on the road to recovery with a good deal of poverty very visible.
We are staying in the 'backpacker ghetto' which tends to have affordable living, inexpensive booze and food with lots of colorful people. |Let's just say that many of the ladies who spend their evenings at the bar/restaurant/dock of our guesthouse are "there on business".
So \Kyle and \I began our 2009 in this bustling capitol city a few days ago. Unfortunately, there was a monsoon style rain storm that slowed down the festivities a bit. We braved the storm, and tuk-tuked it to a few of the nicer bars by the riverfront. \|I might venture to say that the greatest part of our evening was the actual countdown. \People in this tiny bar started counting and we looked at each other and realized that we couldn't understand what they were saying|! We didn't even know when to actually shout our "happy new years" until the foreign-tongue counting dissolved into cheers!
\oh - guess the return keydoes it too.\
\Phenom \Penh is a very large capitol city which includes all the good things and bad things froma foreign city. |Good food options and fantastic markets full of treasures. |The tuktuk drivers are ruthless and seemingly around every corner and making it to the other side of the street on foot is a minor daily victory.\
\PP has had a troubled history and is still very much on the road to recovery with a good deal of poverty very visible.
We are staying in the 'backpacker ghetto' which tends to have affordable living, inexpensive booze and food with lots of colorful people. |Let's just say that many of the ladies who spend their evenings at the bar/restaurant/dock of our guesthouse are "there on business".
So \Kyle and \I began our 2009 in this bustling capitol city a few days ago. Unfortunately, there was a monsoon style rain storm that slowed down the festivities a bit. We braved the storm, and tuk-tuked it to a few of the nicer bars by the riverfront. \|I might venture to say that the greatest part of our evening was the actual countdown. \People in this tiny bar started counting and we looked at each other and realized that we couldn't understand what they were saying|! We didn't even know when to actually shout our "happy new years" until the foreign-tongue counting dissolved into cheers!
Kratie, Cambodia
Our first experience of Cambodia (apart from the border 'n' travel package) was in Kratie - pronounced Kratchay - a sleepy little town on the Mekong, northeast of Phnom Penh. We spent two days wandering the street, poking through the market, watching Al Jazera, and observing sunsets over the river. Kratie is mostly known for the potential to see the Irrawady Dolphin, a rare and disappearing species of freshwater dolphin found only in the Mekong (supposedly anyway). After deliberating over the whopping 12 dollar pricetag of the expedition, we headed up there on moto. In addition to the ubiquitous tuktuk, Cambodia is perhaps unique in its public transport motorcylces, where you (and possibly one other person, or a ton of foodstuffs, or a live chicken) hop on the back of some guy's motorcycle and are taken to your destination. On Dolphin Day, Kate's driver had a helmet and drove at reasonable speeds, and my driver had no helmet and passed every imaginable vehicle extremely closely while honking (including, memorably, a wagon full of hay pulled by a pair of cattle on a narrow dirt road). Once at the dolphin dock, we boarded a boat and headed into the water for an hour of see if you can spot the dolphins. And we did! Many dolphins happily swam and dove around the sand bars and small shrubs of the Mekong, while we tailed them and tried to take a picture. On the ride back to town, we stopped at a small wat on top of a hill from which you can see the whole valley (after climbing innumerable steps). It was lovely.
As an introduction to Cambodia, Kratie taught us a lot. People are generally smilier and friendlier than in Laos (believe it or not, travelers). The U.S. dollar is the main unit of currency, with Reil making up for small change (4000 Reil to the dollar means a 1000 reil note is 25 cents - no coins for Cambodia). Most suprisingly, many women wear pajamas all the time (or maybe just in public), and not like people said Maoists wore pajamas. More like people in the Sears catalog sleep section where pajamas - button down, one front pocket, patterned with cartoon characters or flowers or weird designs. Straight up pajamas, folks.
Next day, we got the last two seats on the bus for Phnom Penh, where the woman in front of me visibly stared at me for about half of the 6 hour trip. The bus played what was apparently an uproariously hilarious variety show and people howled with laughter. There as also a super blinged out baby to entertain us.
As an introduction to Cambodia, Kratie taught us a lot. People are generally smilier and friendlier than in Laos (believe it or not, travelers). The U.S. dollar is the main unit of currency, with Reil making up for small change (4000 Reil to the dollar means a 1000 reil note is 25 cents - no coins for Cambodia). Most suprisingly, many women wear pajamas all the time (or maybe just in public), and not like people said Maoists wore pajamas. More like people in the Sears catalog sleep section where pajamas - button down, one front pocket, patterned with cartoon characters or flowers or weird designs. Straight up pajamas, folks.
Next day, we got the last two seats on the bus for Phnom Penh, where the woman in front of me visibly stared at me for about half of the 6 hour trip. The bus played what was apparently an uproariously hilarious variety show and people howled with laughter. There as also a super blinged out baby to entertain us.
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