You know what’s nice about Thailand? You can hop in a plane and in a few hours be in a completely different country with a completely different culture. For our fall break, Maia, Tori and I decided to go to Cambodia. We share a border, and it’s relatively affordable to get over there (compared to a flight from the US anyways). So why the hell not? Not to mention it’s home to one of the largest religious monuments ever constructed. Our time there was fleeting, but we packed in quite an adventure.
The first day was dedicated to exploring Siem Reap. We stumbled into a covered market that felt very authentic. The majority of people shopping around were locals, and the goods being sold weren’t your average tourist attraction: there were bags of rice, piles of fruits and veggies, and rows and rows of meat. Frogs, fish, chicken, duck, and various unidentifiable sausage-like links. There was a warm, musky stench in the air which made wandering a little disturbing. Women and children alike seated on ground chopping, bagging, slicing, and dicing. I was simultaneously disgusted by women hacking up raw, blue frogs and amazed by the utterly authentic situation I was experiencing.
Back on the streets, I began to understand the desperate lifestyle of a tourist destination. Every step we took was chased by the calls of vendors offering us “special price”, or a tuk-tuk driver’s incessant cries of “hey lady! want to see the temple?”. Even the children would run up to you and try to convince you to come into their parents shop or to take a seat at their restaurant. There was also a problem with children begging. At one point, a little boy followed me as I wound through the busy streets. He kept repeating, “I don't want money just milk,” and despite my attempts to tell him I didn’t have that he kept close on my heels. At one point he jumped behind Maia and yelled, “aahh!”, trying to spook her.
Poverty is different in Cambodia than it is in Thailand. I think it is mainly because Siem Reap is a major tourist destination because of Angkor Wat. It seemed like everyone made a living by selling gifts, food, or rides. The night markets are filled with vendors all giving you the same deals, even using the same phrases. I heard, “special price for you,” at every corner. If you so much as slow down by a stall, the vendor will run up to you and tell you about products with good prices.
Despite that little culture shock, we kept good spirits and made our way to the temples. That night we tried to catch a sunset at Angkor Wat. We got in our Tuk-Tuk and raced out of the city. The jungle whirred by us as our driver flew over the bumpy dirt roads and wove around giant trucks to get us there in time. When he dropped us off and and gestured toward the jungle path we needed to trek up to reach the viewpoint, the sky was already beginning to darken. But it wasn’t because we missed the sunset: a cool wind was pushing thick, purple clouds into the sky. It was about to rain.
The onset of a downpour wouldn’t stop us. We walked swiftly up the dirt path through thick trees and throngs of tourists. We had animated conversations about the ethics of war and the immoral truths of animal cruelty as we approached the top. When we got to the temple, there was a winding line at the bottom of the steps. It looked hopeless. Everyone had stopped moving. From our place in line, there was no view over the sprawling green jungle. We were going to miss the sunset. It seemed like we came all this way for nothing, but Mother Nature decided to reward us with buckets of rain as if to say, “hey, you came all the way to the top of this mountain for an adventure, right? How about a mini-monsoon?”
Of course all of us had left our raincoats back in the hotel, despite having carried them around with us for the entire day up to that point. Luckily a woman in line behind us offered us a white leopard print umbrella to share, and she huddled under one with a friend. The three of us penguin shuffled in line with the umbrella mostly covering our purses and valuables. We were completely soaked, but we all had ridiculous smiles on our faces. When we got to the front of the line, the rain stopped. It was perfect timing! We carefully climbed up a steep, wooden staircase to the top of the temple. The view over the jungle was breathtaking: the sky was covered in a deep purple carpet of clouds, and a blanket of mist was thrown lightly over the treetops. There wasn’t exactly a “sunset” to see besides a brief glimpse of bright orange light, but it was beautiful nonetheless.