The Idealist: Meeting Strangers On A Bus (2)

Hello, Battambang!

Voleak aka Min and I

Yesterday I set out from Siem Reap, saying goodbye to Angkor and the nicest staff I've ever encountered - of the 'Okay 1 Villa' - and got my behind on a bus to Battambang - pronounced Battambong -. On the bus I met Steven, unfortunately no picture available, a 31 - year old Cambodian that has been spending the past 8 years either in China, the Philippines and other places. He was on his way to his family and introduced me to some of the local and not so local cuisine. During the 4 hour bus ride we took a break in a village somewhere where they were selling what looked like big hollow sticks that you use to smoke things out of. To my surprise, the contents were somewhat more healthy: sticky rice, coconut and beans. The thing you do is you tear the wood apart and feast on the goods inside, which was stuffed in the hollow wood and heated. When I encounter it again I'll be sure to have my camera ready.

Mom and I

Among the not so local cuisine there was Chinese cookies and Chinese spicy pork. You've read that right, pork. As I am a vegetarian in body and mind, I have sinned. I've sinned here in Cambodia and in Vietnam as well. In Vietnam, most of the time you don't know what you're eating and even if you ask for a vegetarian meal, you get the occasional chicken or fish anyway - or beef for that matter - and when I'm offered food by people who don't have half of what I have, I tend to shove my principles up my own ass rather than blowing off a friendly gesture.

Hak Tola is his name, and he's as awesome as his name

Then when the bus arrived, same same circus, but different. Tuktuk drivers were lurking at the bus stop, looking for people to transport to their hotels. The experience is somewhat less hectic and the atmosphere less hostile than in Vietnam, but I wouldn't go that far as saying that I enjoyed it.

Battambang

In come Robin and Lea, two friendly people from Switzerland that were on a mission to 'take care of me', as the staff of the Okay 1 Villa feared I wasn't going to recover from the loss of their hospitality. Having met them briefly the day before, they got me onto a tuktuk that would take us to the Chhaya Hotel in Battambang. There I asked how much a bed in the dormroom was. 'A dollar', he said. 'Sold.', thought I.

Rains, Monks, A Pig And Vegetarian Food

Truth be told, there isn't much to Battambang, although compared to a Vietnamese city of the same size, this place was nearly abandoned. Two people from Switzerland and one guy from Belgium was the party, finding a place worth looking at was the challenge. We eventually found it in the form of a cemetery which was inhabited by Buddhist monks. Educated as we were after Angkor, we spoke of naga's, garuda's, The Churning Of The Ocean Of Milk and coconuts as if we've been there for a lifetime, all but the latter adorning the graves we encountered. Then the skies opened and rain came crashing down from all sides again. Raining cats and dogs, as they also say over here. We fled under a roof of a temple, saw a pig running around in the rain and greeted monks with umbrella's. We talked some more about life and other things and grew hungry, so it was time for some food and boy, was it good food.

We followed our Lonely Planet guide to a very small place in a relatively small street which seemed anything but cozy. We sat down and took a train ride to veggie heaven. The place didn't have a menu yet, so a very kind Cambodian woman explained to us what was available. I took the 'beef' with noodles. The beef is made out of mushrooms, but unlike anything I've ever tasted. It also really had the consistency of meat, in such a way it had the three of us second guessing the place as we voiced our complaints that it was real meat. Then she showed us the uncooked version and we kept our mouths shut after that.

This morning we had breakfast there again, price was less than 3 dollars for three people, and set out on a tuktuk for an impulsive adventure with a wobbly bridge, wine tasting and disturbing caves.

Testing the wobbly bridge

Wine

Cambodia has it and they harvest up to three times a year. I don't know half a thing about wine, but I'm lead to believe that is a lot. The wine was sour and had a chicken aftertaste, so it was good for me! Then we had another thing which didn't have alcohol and finished it off with honey and ginger, experiencing why Andy Serkis drinks it when he plays Gollum.

Wine and things

The Deafening Silence

Artist impression of the killing caves

After a scenic tuktuk ride, guide negotiating, entrance fees and a climb up a mountainside, things got serious really quick. We arrived at Phnom Sampeau, which is famous for the Killing Caves. During Khmer Rouge reign in the '70's - I think it was four years, but I'd have to check-, anywhere between two and three million Cambodians were killed. Most of them died anonymous as they tried to cover up their identities, especially if they were educated, as all educated people were executed on sight. If you would like to know more about the events that happened here, you can, among other things, see the movie 'The Killing Fields' (but forget the music edited on the last minute, seriously) or read the book 'S-21', about a place I will be visiting in a few days in Phnom Penh. Over 10.000 people died here in the caves, 300 of them children. Most were locked up in a temple-turned prison and awaited execution. They would have their throats cut, or not, and tossed over the side into the pointy pit of the cave, some of them not dying instantly and dying of starvation among hundreds of corpses. Some of the skulls and bones of the victims are on display here and it tears you apart to see it. A temple was erected here inside the cave to make the place more solemn and although the blood has been cleaned off of the walls and the stench has subsided, you can feel what happened here and are unable to grasp it at the same time. Special thanks to our 18 year old guide who provided the surprise of the day by educating us and managed to get the three of us real, real quiet.

Kliang

After that kick in the face, we made our way up to the top of the mountain where we saw a snake climbing a tree and two artillery cannons pointing at the valley, also a relic of another time. On top we encountered a 36-year old monk - dressed in orange, short haircut - who, as everyone here, thought I was 20 and he proposed me to come sit next to him for a talk. His English was excellent and we started off our little encounter by trying on each other's shoes. It turned out we had the same shoe size and he jokingly proposed if we couldn't swap sandals.

Kliang

He had been a monk for 13 years - no girlfriend, no possessions, no kids - and had just gotten his school for orphans and poor children up and running, all built on donations. He informed if I was looking for a job as an English teacher, not earning money, but maybe picking up a girlfriend in the process or, I could become a monk. His class has about 200 students and are from all ages and he's been teaching classes for 3 years, only getting government support as an official NGO three months ago.

Sometimes I have the arrogance of passing myself off as important. Well, compared to this guy I'm as important to society as that fly that just crashed into your windshield is to your life.

After that encounter we had a coconut each and tuktuk'ed our way back to Battambang.