23/JULY
I held onto the wooden railings as we climbed gingerly up the steep, narrow cement stairs. The floor felt cold and dusty on my bare feet, and the paint on the railings were peeling off, revealing a dirty yellow coating underneath.
The bellboy put down our luggage in front of a wooden door with the number three on it, smiling at us as he felt his pocket for the keys. He gave the door a good push and it creaked open; my heard sank to the soles of my feet.
The ancient-looking air conditioner jutted out of a window that had a bleak view of the faded wall of the building next door, framed by gaudy orange-red curtains that looked like they hadn’t been changed for months. The full-sized bed was decent, but the white bed sheets were so thin it was hard to ignore the bright, cheap mattress stripes it was supposed to cover.
It was a small room with unusually high ceilings that stretched to the rooftop; the wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom, however, did not. The wall ended abruptly in the middle of the room, standing a mere six feet that barely covered the showerhead and mirror in the bathroom. Dark, murky brown water spots leaking from the ceilings further disrupted the dying appeal of the room.
A dusty pink wall fan stuck out of the wall. The boyfriend pulled at its strings and it crackled to life noisily, the plastic blades speeding up as the sweating boyfriend yanked on the strings again. Then he turned around to look at me, a helpless grin on his face.
“You OK with this dee?”
24/JULY
We sat down on a long, metal table that could fit the eight of us for some “authentic Cambodian food” (read: local food of questionable hygiene and ingredients) in a night market by the side of a busy main street about five minutes’ walk from our guesthouse.
Food turned out to be very peppery fried noodles and fried rice, and everyone was in good spirits, egging each other to try the fried insects and other foods worthy of a Fear Factor challenge. It felt no different from our usual dinner nights at a mamak or hawker stalls, except for the little dark-skinned children that were always close by, ready to pounce on any leftover foods on the table as soon as the patrons had left. Most of them were half naked, and all of them had huge, hungry eyes set on heads that seem disproportionately large for their underweight frames.
Left my half-eaten plate of noodles to the empty table next to us – the kids wolfed it down in seconds. I turned away from them and tried to join in the conversation again, feeling stupid for the hot tears that were burning the corner of my eyes.
Streets littered with stray dogs and handicapped beggars. Noisy tuk-tuks and the incessant staring as we tried to navigate our way around. Landmine or war victims loitering around street corners and creeping up next to us wordlessly, asking for charity.
It didn’t matter where we went – roadside stalls or posh bars that serve USD2 coconut shakes – we’d find unkempt, skinny children lying beside the sidewalk, some holding their baby siblings wrapped in dirty rough cloths, others curled up beside their handicapped mother or father.
The daunting misery and despair all around was impossible for me to ignore.
25/JULY
Khmer Rouge. Pol Pot. Genocide. Landmine victims.
Torture rooms that still carried the stench of stale blood and death. Headshots of actual genocide victims, all with the same haunting, hopeless gaze. Skulls and bones of mass killing victims lined up neatly beside shallow mass graves on the ground.
The harsh realities just kept coming. Was slowly beginning to be desensitized for self-preservation purposes.
The unforgiving sun and all its heat threatened to sear our skins to crisps. Slathered on sunscreen religiously every two hours at the disadvantage of appearing oily and sweaty in pictures later on.
26/JULY
Checked into a quaint little guesthouse with an indoor garden and friendly helpers in Siem Reap. Relieved to find the vast differences between Phnom Penh and Siem Reap.
Baguettes were heated up to a delicious texture before served, as opposed to stale, hard-as-rock baguettes we were served with in Phnom Penh.
Little children here ran around half naked and barefooted playing with each other, not running after every foreigner with an outstretched palm.
Tuk-tuk drivers rarely harassed us to take a ride with them.
Precious jewels like diamonds and rubies are sold here at a dime a dozen (quite literally).
Finally stopped counting the hours to our flight back to good ol’ Malaysia.
The heat, however, was as relentless as ever. Had on my sunglasses, umbrella and two inches deep of sunscreen at all times to minimize sun damage.
Lunch at a dingy roadside stall - The aluminium rooftops, the roaring fire from the stove, the lack of a functional fan all contributed to a very sweaty, uncomfortable meal of peppery fried noodles/ fried rice.
27/JULY
Woke up 4.30 in the morning to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. Definitely lived up to its reputation – the place was awe-inspiring.
All succumbed to the stifling heat and had familiar, glorious fried chicken in possibly the only air-conditioned shop whole of Siem Reap, KFC.
First Cambodian massage. Suffered torturous thigh rubs to avoid being left out of the group, but still do not understand everyone’s hype about the full-body massage after personally experiencing it.
Shrug.
Even depressing vacation destinations can be fun when explored with a group of joking, laughing friends.
Even fun vacation trips with friends can turn ugly when disturbed by drunken Scottish potheads who spills drinks and light up marijuana joints in a six-hour night bus ride back to Phnom Penh.
Even loving, gentle boyfriends can sputter angry, hateful remarks and threaten to beat up big-built Scottish brutes when continuously pushed to the edge in a six-hour bus ride.
28/JULY
Even horrible, scary encounters with coked up Scottish hippies can become funny highlights of one’s trip after a good night’s rest.
Had strong Cambodian coffee and laksa-like noodles in local market (even though am usually adverse to coffee when in Malaysia).
Flight was delayed. Ripped off at the airport restaurant – USD4 for a plate of fish and chips. But very glad that airport was adequately air-conditioned.
Reached home in time for a late dinner. Never craved for a steaming hot plate of yin-yang noodles more.
Determined to learn more about Cambodian history and culture via wikipedia and other online sources.
Terribly grateful that Malaysia is the way it is, despite its shady politics and frustrating racial biases.
