We left the bright colors
of yellow and red in Thailand and arrived to the olive drab palette
of camouflage in Cambodia. I was traveling in SE Asia for 5 weeks
with my boyfriend. We left the U.S. jobless due to the recession,
amidst the war on terrorism, with Anthrax in the mail, George W.
in office… and I was turning 30. What better circumstances
to escape to foreign lands? We bought plane tickets to Siem Reap
at a travel agency in Bangkok and were off to Cambodia to see the
magnificent Angkor Wat temples.
We flew into Siem Reap on a humid, still afternoon
in January. On arrival, we paid our $20 admission fee, were quickly
processed by immigration officers dressed in military-style uniforms
and were ushered into a fine cloud of dust swirling around the parking
lot. $5 will get you a nice, air-conditioned car with a young, polite
driver for the 15-minute ride to town. Our driver’s name was
Van Seng. He was an overly cautious driver, spoke good English and
seemed very comfortable with those uncomfortable silences. He would
become our driver to the Angkor temples for the next 3 days. Due
to this, my memories of him primarily consist of the coarse, wavy
black hair on the back of his head and the teenage acne I could
see on his face in the rear view mirror.
As we drove down the main road into town I gazed out
the windows with anticipation. There were colossal luxury hotels
lining the road alongside neighborhoods of thatched roof shacks
that leaned against each other like houses made from playing cards.
There were families of 4 with deep brown skin riding together on
a single motorbike and freshly killed pigs stacked like sacks of
flour on wooden carts on the road before us. We were unprepared
for Cambodia in many ways, starting with not having determined a
place to stay. As we made our way to town, we quickly scanned our
guidebook for the cheapest guesthouse we could find with the greatest
number of amenities such as an indoor bathroom or hot water.
When he dropped us off, Van Seng quickly secured work
for the next 3 days. It’s not possible to get to the Angkor
temples on your own unless you rent a motorbike, which is technically
against the law but possible to do by bribing the local police.
However, if you don’t know this or feel more comfortable playing
by the rules, you must hire a driver with car or motorbike. As he
helped us get our packs out of the trunk, Van Seng said, “If
you don’t need me, I will not have any work.” In a moment
we were made responsible for his livelihood or lack thereof. In
the course of our visit to Siem Reap, there were similar instances
like this, mixing up an emotional stew of pity, generosity, guilt
and frustration.
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